


The Adventures of Suave Man and Shout Guy

by Elendraug, hydromeow



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Anal Sex, Awkwardness and Fumbling, Bucket Usage, Bulges and Nooks, Check Out All These Capitalized Words, Explicit and Constant Consent, Inappropriate Timing Of Pop Culture Jokes, It's Like Kanaya Wrote The Tags, M/M, Meteorstuck, Mutual Masturbation, Nook Eating, Nook Fingering, Not Everybody Must Orgasm Every Single Time To Enjoy Themselves, Oral Sex, PART 2 TAGS:, Quadrant Confusion, Relationship Discussions, Troll Will Smith, Trust, Vulnerability
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-22
Updated: 2015-04-27
Packaged: 2018-02-14 07:09:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 60,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2182572
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elendraug/pseuds/Elendraug, https://archiveofourown.org/users/hydromeow/pseuds/hydromeow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Looking for upd8 porn that starts with Dave resting his head on Karkat's lap? Look no further! (Also includes discussion of consent, rejection of toxic masculinity, laying the groundwork for an emotionally healthy relationship, and a fuckload of dumb puns.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Adventures of Suave Man & Shout Guy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Maim](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Maim/gifts).



> **UPD8 4/27/15:** This is set in the previous meteor timeline, because we started writing in summer 2014, so while it's not _technically_ an update fic, its themes play out similarly and should still be mostly relevant to your interests.
> 
> All coding and Dave-ing was done by me (Elendraug) and any errors are my fault. Let me know if you catch anything and I'll fix it!
> 
> Dedicated to Maim for being a constant source of davekat inspiration and illustration.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Hussie was all "haha, I'd like to see you fuckers make incestuous bug aliens who jizz into buckets then inseminate a giant moth woman with it into porn" and it backfired spectacularly_

One of the perks of going god tier was that Dave was now multilingual, with zero effort. His intangible Kiddie Camper Handysash was adorned with a variety of merit badges, and one allowed him to read and speak any language. This meant that he could read through Karkat's collection of romance novels, which varied in quality from tolerable to godawful to 'oh fuck, please shoot me now'.

He sat in the common room, nestled into the arm of the couch, reading one of the worst examples yet. It was frustrating to be alone, because there were so many atrocious bits of dialogue he really wanted to quote aloud to somebody, but they were all busy doing other crap. Harrumph.

Some of Karkat's romance novels had gone missing. He had suspicions that they'd been kidnapped by one of the Strilondes - both had seemed at least somewhat interested in them. This was fine, he'd given them permission to browse his collection, it wasn't a big deal. However! It was a big deal when his absolute favorite (In which a highblooded docterrorist takes on a lowblooded apprentice, etc etc etc) was nowhere to be found and he wanted to read it for the nth time.

He wandered into the common room, seeing a shock of decidedly hornless hair sticking up from the arm of the couch. Aha! It was Dave, and, lo and behold, he was definitely reading the book Karkat wanted. Damn. "Dave," Karkat started, going over to sit on the other side of the multiperson seating device, "Are you about done with that? No rush, I wanted to read it, but if you're going to enlighten yourself on a clearly superior culture I have no objections. Just. How much longer do you think you'll be?"

Dave held the book aloft, gripping the pages he'd completed between his thumb and index finger, and shrugged. "I dunno. I read pretty quick, but I'm not that far."

He swung his legs up onto the couch and braced the spine of the book against his knees. "Y'know, I've been thinking about recording audiobooks for all of these. That hasn't been done yet, right? It'd be a new project. Benefit future generations of consorts all that shit. Salamancers gotta have reading material."

Karkat shrugged, "I guess, so long as you actually stick to the reading material instead of going on some inane spiel. I don't think consorts really care, not unless it's a tragic tale about, say, mushrooms."

He drummed his fingers idly against the arm of the couch, "...Well, what do you think of the book so far, then? It's a prime example of Alternian culture, maybe it'll be a learning experience."

Dave nudged at Karkat's thigh with his foot. His shoes had long since been abandoned to the floor; socks were comfy enough, right?

"I'm having trouble understanding the role of docterrorists in Alternian society." He closed the book and set it on the floor, next to his sneakers. "I can't figure out if they're trying to heal people or just watch them die slowly."

Karkat shifted so that Dave's feet couldn't reach him unless he scooted down to do so; leaving Karkat with very little actual sitting space. But hey, socks were pretty gross after they'd been worn all day.

"Well, it pretty much depends on hemospectrum and how much treason the Empire suspects you've committed. Usually they just tend wounds, but if you're on a ship and you're low rank or a lowblood - both usually go hand in hand, but there've been exceptions - and your leg gets chopped off or something, they'll probably just cull you and save the more valuable resources on people who aren't culling fodder. If you've committed a crime against the Empire and you aren't violet, or if the crime is class-A fucking treason, they're pretty much trained to inflict as much pain as possible. All-your-organs-leaking-out-your-wastechute levels of pain is what I'm talking here. It's a pretty prestigious job, all things considered."

Despite his usual veneer of calm, Dave pressed his lips into a thin line. "Well then. That's legit got Uncle Sam beat."

Dave immediately scooted further over and began to prod Karkat's ribs with his toes. There was no escape.

"Who the fuck is Uncle Sam, I'm assuming he's human. Of course his torture methods are sub-par, you're all pansie-eek!" Karkat squawked, swatting at Dave's legs, and most certainly didn't half-stifle a shrill shriek. He wasn't ticklish. He wasn't. "Stop touching me with your gross, sweat stained pods, I'll catch some human disease and I won't even have any immune resistance. And when I die a slow, horrible death, then you'll know why you shouldn't poke me with walking appendages."

Dave barely resisted the temptation to shove his foot in Karkat's face. That was maybe just a bit _too_ rude. But only slightly.

"His torture methods are pretty legit, but I was talking about the American healthcare system." He sat up and backed to the arm of the couch, now out of easy foot-poking range. "If you get one of my diseases, no worries. I'll fill out the paperwork for you to get state-funded coverage as an undocumented alien immigrant. We'll wait a few months, get a letter denying you any benefits, reapply, wait a few more months, and then go to a doctor and you can be told that in a year you will have your visits paid for, after a mandatory waiting period on your policy."

Dave brightened. "By then, you will have either recovered, or just died already, so really it's a win-win."

Karkat was absolutely baffled. "Your culture didn't have any aliens, dumbshit, you weren't even half as advanced as we were, which is why I'd be getting diseases in the first place. Can't vaccinate against pathogens you don't have the technology to understand. Your human scientists were probably just slapping shit into vials and calling it a wonder drug, all 'hurr hurr let's see if THIS cures nookrot!'" 

He glared at Dave's feet once more for good measure before scooting warily back off the arm of the couch. "Aside from torture methods, though, do you like the book? I mean, it's fucking exquisite, but I can't help if you can't comprehend the sheer emotional roller coaster it takes you on."

Dave opened his mouth to make a joke about the anti-vaxx crowd, but it was too stupid to be worth mentioning. For Karkat's sake, he sat up further and crossed his legs under him. The threat was gone.

"Ain't enjoying the roller coaster yet, sir. The ride operator is still jostling everybody's plastic/metal harness things and telling us all the safety instructions. My back's cramping up and my hip's smacking into the victim next to me." Dave shrugged. "Like I said. Not too far into it yet."

Karkat made a show of rolling his eyes, more of an act than actually being frustrated with Dave. "So, what now? Now that we've established that your feet are grosser than a cholerbear's ricy diarrhea, and that you're Not Very Far into my book, which were obviously the most important matters of business here."

He relaxed visibly into a slouch with the threat of feet gone, kind of restlessly drumming his fingers against the arm of the couch. Silence was awkward, okay, especially when Karkat wasn't busy doing something.

"Maybe you could get the jump on the audiobook initiative and read aloud to me, like I'm some dude with a longass commute who needs to be entertained while driving."

Dave watched Karkat fidget. He deliberately remained as still as humanly possible, just to counter him.

Karkat sighed, "Alright, but don't expect me to do voices. My reading will be as dry and bland as two-sweep old tofu left out in the sun." He picked the book up and thumbed through the pages, looking for a marker, "What page were you on? You didn't even woofbeast-ear the pages, holy shit, you could teach a thing or two to Lalonde."

"Has she been fucking up your books?" Dave frowned. "Usually I got like, scraps of unfinished SBaHJ panels lying around I can stuff between the pages."

Four year old tofu was hella old tofu. Gross.

Dave flopped down on his back and kicked his feet over the edge of the armrest, his hair just shy of touching Karkat's thigh.

"Yes," Karkat lamented, finding a little doodle of some blue elf man, Sweet Bro or Hella Jeff or what the fuck ever, between the pages, "Spines all bent out of shape, pages wrinkled. It's infuriating. Anyway -"

He began reading; the docterrorist was backhandedly complimenting her apprentice on her ability to rise through the ranks despite her genetic setbacks. The apprentice spent six paragraphs debating as to whether this was regular highblood talk or if it was a poorly-executed black come-on. 

Karkat absently ran the fingers of his free hand through Dave's weird alien-color hair. He might not have even noticed he was doing it, it was such a slight movement.

He wouldn't've expected Rose to treat someone else's book with such a lack of respect, but then, maybe she'd really made herself at home with the meteor's lending library. (The Mayor had insisted they maintain it as a publicly funded aspect of Can Town. They'd all chipped in what reading material they had.)

Dave interrupted him. "Gotta keep your hands busy while you're thinking, huh?"

He had his own habits; many a SBaHJ doodle had been drawn in the margins of notebooks while he was half listening to various shit, after all.

"What? Oh, shit," Karkat jerked his hand away, holding onto the book with both hands this time, "It's not really thinking, though. Just processing the words and getting them out of my squawk blister, not exactly a high-thought activity. Yeah, okay, not exactly helping my case, here."

He cleared his throat and started reading again, a little more mechanically than before, clearly more focused on keeping his grasping appendages where they were than narrating.

Dave craned his neck back to stare up at Karkat, the crown of his head pushing against the couch cushion. His bangs brushed against Karkat's pants, and he could nearly look at him from beneath the lower rim of his shades.

This was some pseudo-Tobey Maguire shit, right here.

Dave had stopped paying attention to the book as soon as Karkat had begun reading it. "Didn't say you had to stop, yo."

Karkat paused, yet again, "Oh." He didn't move for a few moments before putting his hand back in Dave's hair and raking his fingers through it more purposefully, parting it first one way and then the other. "Is that okay?" 

"Ah, anyway, uh. Where were we? Right, right, okay, found my place. 'I was beginning to question her motives, particularly those regarding her patients. She was displaying an extreme amount of prejudice, in my unprofessional opinion - especially in favor of her quadrants and quadrant corners. I had to confront her..."

Oh, that was nice. Dave raised his head up into Karkat's touch, and shifted to lean fully on Karkat's leg.

[ ](http://freakyhumanshit.tumblr.com/post/112500877920/yeah-you-lay-on-that-tummy-dave-you-live-the)

"Wait, I don't understand the difference between a quadrant and a quadrant corner."

Karkat marked his page and closed his book, setting it down next to Dave's shoes. "A quadrant is your matesprit, moirail, kismesis, or auspices. A quadrant corner is your quadrantmate's quadrantmate. So, for example, your moirail's matesprit, or your matesprit's kismesis. Follow?"

He petted at Dave's hair some more, scratching slightly with just the very tips of his claws.

"Yeah, that makes sense." He exhaled slowly through his nose, content, and crossed his arms over his chest. "So what you're saying is that trolls are, as a general rule, a bunch of squares."

Head scratches were so good. On a list of Dave-approved things enjoyed unironically, they were near the top.

Karkat rolled his eyes, "Yeah, and we're edgier than all you circles."

He looked down and laughed slightly, "...shit, dude, you're like a little meowbeast, I bet you'd be purring if you could. I wondered, you know, if humans could. There we have it: empirical evidence that you do not, in fact, purr."

"Meow meow, motherfucker." Dave smirked. "Besides, circles are just, like, an illusion, man. Totally."

He lifted his hands to gesture widely, in the Gamzee-est way he knew how. "Circles are fake as shit."

Karkat scoffed, "You're such a turd. We are all embarrassed for you. Clearly squares are superior to fake-ass human circles, I will accept your defeat in essay format, due tomorrow."

"This is startlingly pale for a circle kind of guy, actually, now that I think about it," he remarked, pretty much effectively killing the moment forever. "Unless this is something human bros do - John never told me he wanted me to tenderly massage his cranial protrusions."

"So maybe I'm a rectangle with rounded edges, or some shit like that." Dave turned to push his forehead against Karkat's shirt, at his hip. "Don't limit what kind of polygon I can be."

He took a deep breath, which meant he inhaled the scent of fabric, and maybe overzealously, some lint. "And do you want that APA or MLA?"

  
[ ](http://freakyhumanshit.tumblr.com/tagged/davekat)  


"A circle isn't a polygon, fartbreath. It's. Just a circle, I guess, I never took the geometry schoolfeeds, but I do know that it is not a polygon. Neither is a rectangle with rounded edges, I don't think, you're not supposed to have curves in a polygon."

Karkat thought about that for a moment, "MLA, and no less than five paragraphs. I want a title page, too. Laminated."

"Do I need to alchemize a fucking laminator?" Dave groaned. It could've been less melodramatic, but what was the point in holding back? "What if I just drop the course and retake it next semester? I think I'ma be avoidant and ditch this assignment entirely."

He was feeling maybe a little self-conscious, but Karkat hadn't said anything, and definitely hadn't pushed him away. Dave stayed right where he was.

Karkat bit his lip to stifle a snort, "You're going to retake the geometry schoolfeed, too. I'm not sure how you intend to manage that, but be my guest."

He shifted a little bit, "If you're gonna, you know, lean on me after the whole head petting, that's probably not the optimal resting position. Normal folks usually go for the shoulder. Just letting you know."

"I know what I'm about, Vantas." To prove his point, Dave deliberately smushed his nose into Karkat's shirt. This, of course, made his shades dig into his face, but this was a necessary sacrifice.

His efforts lasted around a minute before it became difficult to breathe without re-inhaling his own breath. Dave nonchalantly rolled onto his back again and used Karkat's thigh to support the curve of his neck. "Do you _want_ me to lean elsewhere?"

Karkat puffed a breath through his nose, squinting at Dave's face smushed against his stomach. Why. "Well, I mean, the back of your skull is pretty much in my crotch, so. If you want to move, sure."

It was difficult to discern whether or not Dave was looking directly at him. That was the advantage of the shades.

"That a problem?"

Karkat frowned, gritting his teeth. "Dude. Your head is on my crotch. My reproductive organs are - guess what! - there. Your head is, by proxy, on my reproductive organs. What if I were to pop a wiggly? You can stay there if you want, but if you can't handle what might be in my undies, it's your funeral."

"Pop a wiggly," he repeated. "Wow. I may never be able to sustain an erection for the rest of my young life after hearing that." Dave snorted. "Bee arr bee while I alchemize some fuckin' Viagra to go with the laminator, and whatever else."

"Well, what do you call it, since your genitals are clearly so superior to mine?" Karkat spluttered, "I know what Viagra is, actually, thank Rose for that, and I really don't want to know why you think you will ever need to use sexual aids on the meteor. You cad."

"Ain't saying my genitals are superior, just my slang."

Dave stretched his arms back until his knuckles brushed the arm of the couch. He scooted towards the edge so that his back was awkwardly draped across Karkat's lap. This was not a good position for his neck, but it was a good position for annoying Karkat.

"Plus like, not that I'm an expert by any means, but isn't your junk wiggly, horny or no?"

Too late he realized that 'horny' was perhaps not the best word choice.

Karkat sighed and leaned back against the couch, resigned to his fate. This was going to be how it ended. Covered by an annoying alien with a superiority complex when it came to slang. 

"...No? My external mating apparatus is safely tucked away in its sheath when I'm not actually going to pail. Or self-pail. Or anything involving my, as you so bluntly put it, 'junk.' Doesn't wiggle when it's not out."

"And how was I supposed to know that?" Dave gave him a _look_ —a thousand yellow yard stare that may or may not have come across clearly from behind the shades.

Self-pail, that was a new one.

"Should we play docterrorist? I'll show you mine if you show me yours, and all that. Minus the culling." His monotone left a lot to be deciphered.

Karkat missed the look completely, even if Dave hadn't been wearing shades. He was too busy staring pointedly at the ceiling. "I assume the human analogue doesn't murder people, then."

"...Fine. Fuck it. Get off me, let's do this. Yours better not have teeth." Not like there was anything to lose; with so few people on the meteor it wasn't like they could just stop being friends because of some awkward genital visuals. "But not in the common room, okay. I do not need Gamzee crawling through the vents and seeing that, like. Ever."

"Not unless they want a serious hike in the rates for their malpractice insurance."

Dave blinked behind the shades. "Wait, seriously?" He hadn't thought Karkat would go for it, and he'd been mostly joking, but hey. Opportunity had come a-knocking, and usually all he got was bullshit door-to-door sales and weird moments when the windy thing rattled the storm door against siding. So.

Yeah, he was gonna go for it.

Karkat shrugged, "Why the hell not, it's not every day you get to undergo a xenobiological expedition. You brought it up, what, do you think I'm a cluckbeast?"

He shook his leg some to jostle Dave imploringly, "Can't do it when you're crushing the reproductive organs you so desperately want to see, though. That's a thing that is still happening, in case you hadn't noticed."

"But I'm so comfortable with this awkward as shit neck-angle." Dave reluctantly sat up, and rolled his shoulders before standing up from the couch entirely. "Your place or mine, hot stuff?"

It felt wrong to leave the book on the floor. Dave picked it up, along with his shoes, but with different hands. There wasn't a ton of dirt on the meteor, but no sense in risking a fuck-up to the cover. After the brutal way Rose had apparently been handling Karkat's literature, Dave wasn't about to follow in his family's book-mangling footsteps.

"You're an embarrassment," Karkat replied, standing up as well, "Mine. It's farther away from everyone, particularly anyone who might want to sniff out the source of so much red in one space."

Thank fuck there was a transportalizer nearby, though, because Dave would get his socks absolutely disgusting, and Karkat had not even a sliver of doubt in his mind that they would get put on him once again.

It'd been a while since Dave had spoken to the meteor's resident red-aficionado, and he didn't particularly want to dwell on that fact.

"I get good grades." Dave followed him to the transportalizer. His socked feet nearly slid on the tile a few times, but he kept his balance. "Bro's got a sticker about it on his car and everything."

That sort of shit usually excused weirdness in families. Dave had that shit in spades. ...which, granted, took on a new definition in this context, but still.

"What does that even _mean_ ," Karkat said, mostly to himself, "It's like trying to decipher someone else's lusus with you sometimes, I swear. Are you actually making words or just spewing nonsense because it gets a reaction? We may never know!"

After the usual floaty sensation of having your atoms rearranged, Karkat headed towards his block at a rather brisk pace. Less time for him to get cold pods and embarrass himself if he hurried, anyway. "Alright, uh, I've got a pile, and a multiperson seating device, but even without sopor my concupiscent platfo- bed thing is pretty underwhelming. So take your pick."

Karkat opened the door to his block and made sure it didn't slam in Dave's face, but he didn't wait and hold it open for him. "Ta-da, here it is."

"Very exciting." Dave glanced around, noting that Karkat, much like the other members of the asshole factory, had managed to decorate his non-bedroom with various crap from his sylladex and other alchemized nonsense. They'd already had over a year to clutter their new spaces to their bloodpushers' contentment.

It was weird to have his own quarters. It felt like an apartment, but shittier, and without any sunlight ever. After spending his life in the unbearable Texas heat, Dave wasn't sure if he missed the sun, or if he was relieved to have it gone.

The Green Sun was its own issue.

He sat down heavily on the side of the bed, dropped his shoes to the floor, and let the book join him on the mattress. It'd have to be moved in like, five seconds, but fuck it. "Are you, uh. Are you gonna lock the door?"

That made it more official, somehow. Dave felt an initial surge of nervous tension burrow into his stomach.

"Yeah. Right, I'll do that." Karkat fiddled with the lock on his door for a few moments before coming over to sit on the other end of the bed. He wasn't exactly sure how he'd expected this to happen, really. 

"Do you, uh. Who should go first, then?" Karkat ran his ringers through his hair, staring at the cover of his book. It wasn't exactly helping. Damn you, raunchy romance novels. 

"What exactly _are_ we doing? The full striptease or just your run-of-the-mill whip your genitals out type thing? I demand to be wooed, Strider. Mostly because I'm not flashing just anyone who asks, but also because I don't think my bulge will make an appearance otherwise."

"I was all ready to get my docterrorist roleplay on." Rather than assume defensive posture, Dave lay down on the bed, his back flat to the mattress, his head on the pillow, one knee pulled up and the other foot dangling off the edge. "Is that not what we're doing?"

He really hadn't anticipated Karkat being so agreeable to getting naked with each other. Maybe that was presuming too much, though. Whipping it out wasn't technically being in the nude, he supposed.

Karkat facepalmed, "Right. Medical roleplay. That's. Yep. Okay, fine, whatever. Do you have specific roles picked out for this or did you not think this sicknasty phantasy through besides 'clinically examining each other's mating tackle, possibly with a microscope' and 'sexy nurse uniforms all around.'" 

He picked the book up and stood to put it on his desk before sitting back down on the bed. "What's my motivation. For the roleplay."

"You're the sexy proctologist who's gonna get up in my guts." Dave's eyes followed Karkat's movements from behind the shades. "And I'm gonna lie here, uncomfortable, and be like, wow, at what point in this guy's life did he decide that his true calling was to shove his finger up dude's asses all day? Was that a thing he aspired to as a grub? Is that what motivated him to prevail against unwinnable odds, to prove himself in the brooding caverns?"

He shrugged, which was awkward while lying down. "These are the deep questions. I'm here to ask them." He grinned, and added, "To _ass_ the deep questions, and probe away."

"You want me to put my fronds. In your ass? Okay, I might not be an expert when it comes to human biology, but you're telling me that you use your wastechute for copulation? That's disgusting. I don't even have gloves."

Karkat turned a violent shade of pink, stifling a snort, "That's. God. Don't make ass puns, I'll be examining you, laugh, and accidentally shred your internal organs or something, and then where will we be? Not in the land of getting laid. No, we'll be in the land of telling Kanaya and Rose exactly how you ended up bleeding from your wastechute and why. Do you want that?"

He held up his hand and wiggled his fingers, pointed with sharp yellow nails, to demonstrate.

Wait. Hold up.

" _Am_ I getting laid?" Dave asked, just shy of deadpan. "Like, is that an offer on the operating table?" He pushed himself up, supporting his weight on his elbows and still leaning back. "You don't gotta 'copulate' with my ass, but you could cop some other things."

He hesitated. "If, y'know. If that's a thing, and not just a complete joke."

"I don't know! You said you wanted me to put my fingers in your butt!" Karkat squawked, crossing his arms, "I thought we were going full speed ahead with the docterrorist roleplay, I was assuming that you thought that meant I put my fronds in your ass!"

He covered his face with his hands, "Okay. What did _you_ have in mind when you suggested the roleplay, because I think I thought different things than you did. Maybe I read too much into it, or something, or maybe you guys don't actually have weird medical pornos."

"All I had in mind was aspiring to the highest levels of ironic bedroom shenanigans, which, yes. Ripped directly off embarrassing and uncomfortable medical porn. Maybe with a bit of Hello Nurse thrown in, or whatever."

Dave found himself somewhat at a loss for what to do next. "I hadn't prepared for the possibility that you'd seriously want to bang me," he admitted.

"I'm not sure how you intend to engage in 'bedroom shenanigans' with someone who doesn't want to pail you, dingus," Karkat grumbled, "I wouldn't go anywhere near the vicinity of someone's junk if I didn't want to, you know, actually touch that junk at some point. I don't go around playing show-and-tell with Rose."

He pursed his lips, "It's not like I fantasize about you or anything, I just. You suggested it and I didn't find myself cringing and vomiting endlessly at the idea, so I mean. If you're game I'm game."

Dave drew his other leg up to keep his knees together. He reached forward to tug down his pant legs where they'd bunched up above his ankles.

"I, uh." Thank dear sweet precious troll jegus for the relative obscurity of Dave's Expressions: Behind the Shades, airing on MTV this next solar sweep. "I may have fantasized about it. Just sayin'."

"Um. That's. Wow, okay," Karkat cleared his throat, "Well, uh, I'm sure if I could fantasize about anything without embarrassing myself and being a total bulge killer, I'd fantasize about you?" Mostly he just read his literotica- romance novels when he did the deed, so.

"What, uh, did we do? In your gross pervy fantasies. So I know where to start, if you want to do things still? I mean, if you don't, that's cool, but. If you still want to, that is also cool."

God, this was so fucking painfully awkward. Maybe this _was_ about to become a show, but a sitcom with embarrassment porn, instead. 

"I don't know." Dave fiddled with the hem of his shirt. "I guess... I think about going down on you?" He gestured vaguely. "But I dunno what you got, so it's probably not very accurate."

"Yeah, okay, I don't know how that would work, because teeth and what I've got are not exactly compatible." Karkat bared his own set of pearly whites to demonstrate, "I'd probably cry if you ever tried to get your chompers anywhere near my bulge."

"Um..." he drummed his fingers on his thigh, thinking about what to say next, "We should probably get acquainted with what we've both got, if this is going to happen, yeah?"

"My teeth aren't sharp, though," Dave protested. "You've got razormouth. Mine are pretty blunt, all things considered." 

Dave rolled onto his side, still supporting his weight on one elbow. "Yeah. I think that'd probably make sense, as a thing to do."

Slyly, he nudged at Karkat's ribs with his foot. It was still funny.

"Sure, but it's still pretty ingrained that TEETH BAD, for me, because as a whole pretty much my entire race has razormouth and I wouldn't want someone to snip my bulge off on accident."

Karkat swatted at Dave's foot, "I'll bite you, see if I don't." He said it without malice, though, rolling his eyes.

"So which of us should go first? I mean, you're still the patient if you wanna keep the roleplay thing going, but I never watched much medical porn. So."

"I didn't think we'd officially started that." Dave shifted closer on the bed and sat cross-legged in front of Karkat. "My interest in the medical arts begins and ends with Dre."

There was tension at the nape of his neck; his ears felt hot. "Uh. I can go first, if you want." He was already getting a semi in his pajama pants, and it'd be obvious in a minute anyway, even if he didn't take anything off.

In a moment of bravery, Dave tugged his waistband of both his pajamas and his boxers down and held them out so they wouldn't trap his dick against his stomach. "Yeah, so..."

"I have no idea what that means, but it's not like that's any different from usual," Karkat rolled his eyes.

He leaned over to get a better look, mouth pressing into a line to hold in any inappropriate laughter. "I am not sure how to feel about that," Karkat said finally, "It reminds me of Equius' musclebeast art, honestly. You're. Yep. You're definitely a mammal."

"Alright, uh. My turn." He wasn't unsheathed yet; it took a bit longer to coax a bulge out than it did to get a boner. He grabbed his pants and boxers and tugged them down enough so that they rested on his thighs, fiddling with the hem and looking at the ceiling. Karkat was too tempted to laugh if he looked down.

Dave feigned a gasp. "You forgot about Dre?"

He wasn't used to be scrutinized like this, not since Terezi had stopped sniffing at him and licking his face. He had a working knowledge of who Equius was—or had been—thanks to being around the surviving trolls for so long, but the statement didn't register much meaning for him. "Yeah. Guaranteed 100% genuine mammal." 

Unlike Davesprite, he thought. Ain't that some shit.

He didn't have time to dwell on that, though, because Karkat was exposing himself. Dave stared at Karkat's crotch without meaning to be so gawky. "You've got, um. You've got both?"

"You've only got one?" Karkat retorted, "I thought the floppy things behind your bulge were hiding it or something. Definitely seeing where the furries got the ideas behind their bizarre sexual dimorphism, now."

Karkat shifted so he was sitting on his knees; kind of hard when your pants are around your thighs, but he managed. "What now? I'm assuming that if yours is anything like the weird mammal porn I've seen more times than I'd like to admit, it doesn't move. How do you even touch it, then?"

"Furries like Jade's furries?" Dave laughed. "Yeah, that's pretty much how a lot of shit on Earth works. Most... well, mammals, I guess." Even that wasn't necessarily true, but Dave continued on anyway. "Some mammals got hooked up with prehensile bits, but mine's stationary."

He wanted more than anything to reach out and touch Karkat, to feel the texture of his skin, to figure out exactly how sensitive he was, but he kept his hands to himself. 

"Um, I touch it with my hands?" he offered. There was a beat, and he hesitated before speaking again. "Did you wanna watch...?"

"Aliens," Karkat snorted, "With your fucking ovipositor tubes. That is quite possibly the weirdest thing I have ever seen."

He shrugged, shifting yet again and kicking his pants a little farther down. Sitting with them part of the way down was really damn annoying, okay. 

"I kind of wanted to touch it myself but I'm gonna be real here, I have no idea what to do with it. So if you wanted to show me? Woo, cultural exchange, and all that?" Karkat held up his hands in a noncommittal gesture, "I could let you watch me too, maybe?"

"It's not an ovipositor, it's like the exact opposite." Dave almost took offense, but stopped himself when he quickly realized it was a totally irrational response to have. "But that'd be something I'm cool with. [Watching you watching me watching you.](http://freakyhumanshit.tumblr.com/post/114832939795/whats-better-than-this-guys-being-dudes)"

Dave's shoes had been off for the last thirty minutes, so pulling his pajama pants and boxers completely off was a motion that went unhampered. He shoved his discarded clothing to the edge of the mattress and prepared to have a too-hot torso and too-cold legs.

Before he could lose his nerve, Dave closed his eyes and reached down to lightly grasp his dick, and began to stroke himself with slow, loose flicks of his wrist.

Karkat rolled his eyes, "That's an ovipositor and you will never convince me otherwise."

Once Dave took his pants off, Karkat kicked off his shoes and shoved his pants and boxers the rest of the way down, putting them in as neat a pile as he could without folding them. 

Karkat sat back, leaning on his elbows, and just watched for a few moments before remembering that he was supposed to, you know, touch himself too. He moved one hand down, alternating between lightly rubbing the lips of his nook and pressing the heel of his hand against his sheath.

"It is so not. I swear to you there are no eggs being posited here."

Dave stared at him, wide-eyed and slightly less bashful than before now that he wasn't masturbating alone. Now he was determined to prove to Karkat that human mouths were a good thing, and the longer he watched Karkat finger his nook, the more he wanted to taste him. 

"So," he began, conversationally. "What do you think about, usually? When you get off." Dave slid his foreskin gently back and forth over his glans and exhaled slowly. "Because I've jerked off to some fucked up shit, let me tell you."

"I bet you that an egg is going to launch out of it and crack right on my face, that's probably what your external shame globe thingies are for. Egg holding." 

Karkat shrugged, huffing a sigh when his bulge slipped out of its sheath in one fluid movement, "Not a lot, actually. I'm shit at fantasizing, I just feel stupid and that's a major bulge-kill, so. Mostly just that it's someone, someone else touching me instead of just my grasping appendages. Book excerpts, sometimes."

He moved his hand back and let his bulge wrap around his wrist before slowly pushing a finger into his nook. "Shit - uh, what do you think about, that's so fucked up."

Oh, god. A surge of heat pulsed through the pit of his stomach, and it took everything in him not to reach over to stroke along Karkat's slippery length. Dave wondered what it'd feel like on his tongue, and his cock twitched.

"Like the book I'm reading right now?" He used the pad of his thumb to smear precome over the tip, sticky as it clung to his skin when he moved back to resume generic fapping. "And I'm man enough to admit I've beat it to furry fanart Jade's linked me, among other things."

Karkat went a little red, "You should probably skip over chapter six, if you're not into that type of thing. It's two girls, and John was pretty adamant about the no homo thing, so I don't know how taboo that is with you guys. Since you're watching me get off."

Karkat jumped a bit when he added another finger, an alien cricket noise escaping him, "Speaking of - I think I get the gist, do you want to maybe try on each other?"

"John only talked to you for like, a day." Dave licked his lips without thinking about it. "And as cool as he is, he was being an idiot."

Karkat's offer was beyond tempting. He'd been aching to touch him since it'd begun to seem like an option. "Oh, hell yes I do."

Dave moved closer and kicked his legs out in front of him, his left thigh flush against Karkat's right. He let go of himself and reached with his left hand to gingerly run his fingertips along Karkat's skin, just below the hem of his shirt and just above the edge of his sheath.

"Well - yeah, okay, that's a valid point but when it comes to alien mating habits he was the only source I had on it, besides your numerous human ovipositor nicknames." Karkat replied, moving his hands out of the way. His right was stained pink around the wrist and up to the second knuckle on two fingers. Obviously, the only course was to wipe it off on Dave's leg. 

Karkat rested his hands on Dave's thighs, "So, is kissing a thing our species has in common or do you guys have, like, plumage you flash at each other or something? Because that would be cool as shit but also really disappointing, I'm just gonna put that out there."

"Under normal circumstances we'd be engaged in a territorial dance with like, five other humans," Dave explained. "Whoever had the freshest moves would get to mate with you."

His leg was now sticky. Dave was enthusiastic about using his tongue to lick at the exact same fluid, but not nearly so excited to have his leg used as a towel. Gross.

"So you're freaked out about oral, but teeth aren't an issue for sloppy makeouts?"

"You know what, I don't trust you. I bet you launch eggs at the nearest person with a nook until they pick the most brightly colored one and incubate it. That's my theory. Charles Darwin couldn't have come up with a better one."

He was totally never going to drop the ovipositor thing. It was absolutely hilarious, okay. But kissing definitely seemed like it was a thing they had in common, at least with the whole mashing-mouths-together concept. 

"My mouth will heal, you walking case of bulgerot. My genitals won't grow back," Karkat rolled his eyes as if this was a very simple concept, "And maybe if you don't shred my face, I'll trust you enough to engage in your sick fantasy involving putting your mouth on my bits. But there's a very real possibility that I might shred _your_ mouth, so. I see your reason for hesitation. I will be gentle as though your lips were made of tissue paper, which I have no doubt in my mind that they are."

The ovipositor thing was so getting old. If Dave wasn't already feeling him up, he would've gone back to petulantly kicking at him again.

"You found me out. I've been Little Jackie Paper this whole time, hiding away from Honalee." Dave slid his fingers downward to tease at the entrance of Karkat's nook, and leaned in closer. "Prepare for papercuts, motherfucker."

He closed his eyes again and kissed him, more softly than one would've expected after his pseudo-aggression.

Okay, teeth. Karkat's teeth were not only sharp, he also had an overbite of nigh-Egbertian proportions. This was going to be a tad difficult. He tilted his head to one side, wincing visibly when his teeth clacked against Dave's. 

He pulled back after a few more moments of lip-mushing, "Shit, did I cut you at all? Disclaimer: all I know about kissing came from books and movies, so I'm probably really terrible at the whole not-destroying-your-mouth thing. Sorry."

To make up for it, Karkat got his hand on Dave's dick and mimicked the stroking movements he'd seen, rocking his hips kind of hesitantly against Dave's fingers.

"You're okay," Dave assured him. "I'm not bleeding out just yet. Didn't really want to make out with your enamel, either, but hey. It is what it is."

He let out a breathy sigh when Karkat began to touch him, and pulled away from the kissing attempts to watch his own efforts. Dave slid his index finger into Karkat's nook, tentative, not wanting to curl it the wrong way or go against the proverbial grain.

"Well, actually, it's part of every troll mating ritual to lovingly lick each and every one of my teeth. So you better fucking make out with my enamel, if you want to woo me properly, you bastard." 

Karkat gasped, leaning forward to rest his head on Dave's shoulder. "You can move your finger some, you fucking waffle iron. I, unlike you, am not made of tissue paper and glass. Just don't ram your finger into me or something. Curl it." He bit at Dave's neck, some, careful not to draw blood but very set on maybe leaving a mark. If you can't kiss successfully yet, attempt next best thing.

Karkat used his free hand to gesture in the general direction of his bulge, which was making a valiant effort to tie itself into a knot against his stomach, "Imitate that. I assume that's what nook humans do with theirs, yeah?" His hand on Dave's dick had stilled, distracted as he was.

"My tongue will lovingly caress every surface of your teeth. Even the mesial and distal surfaces."

Dave had spent a weird afternoon on Wikipedia fueled by a frustrating trip to a shitty dentist. He often found himself wishing Earth hadn't been destroyed for multiple reasons, but specifically, he had a feeling he'd kick ass at trivia these days. 

He tilted his head to allow Karkat access to his neck and shoulder, and sucked in a harsh breath between his teeth. "Fuck, Karkat."

Dave crooked his finger inside Karkat's nook, pressing the pad of it against the textured surface as he worked it in and out. "Can't say I know what 'nook humans' do, but this is what _I_ do."

"Ooh, you scoundrel, you," Karkat responded, snickering between kisses and bites. He had no idea what that meant, but he assumed it had something to do with 'super-duper tooth licking' and went with it. 

He hissed sharply, "With your butt, right. Thanks, now I know that the finger in my nook has also been up your ass, and you're using the same moves you did there. That's. I'm not sure how to feel about that, actually."

Karkat remembered with a start that, yeah, this was supposed to be mutual, and started moving his hand again, moving the foreskin some to rub at the glans like Dave had. "So. Oral. What exactly do you intend to do with your mouth if I grant you access to the temple that is my reproductive organs."

Dave made a face. "Dude, it's not like I don't wash my hands. Jesus." He slipped his middle finger inside Karkat, too, and used his thumb to tease at the base of his bulge. "I like how it feels, all right?"

He used his free hand to take off his shades, which had been overdue for a while now. He set them behind himself, on the pillow, confident that he'd remember to move them before he lay back down. Karkat's hand on his cock was extremely distracting, though. It was all he could do to keep his own hand moving steadily.

"Is that a trick question? Am I suppose to answer that I'll worship at the Blood Knight temple?"

"Okay, fine, you don't have a nook so you have to do the next best thing, I totally get it." Karkat said after a moment's pause to appreciate the added sensation. Fuck this, his bulge was starting to ache. He reached down with his other hand to let his bulge tangle with his fingers and sighed in relief.

He totally did not get it, but he didn't have a prostate, either, so trolls at large had yet to experience the wonder that was doin' it up the butt. There were the occasional kinksters, sure, but you couldn't use that slurry to hand in to the drones, so it was risky in general.

"Now that just makes me feel like my nook is leaking blood, what the fuck, dude," He groaned, leaning back to make a face at Dave, "No, it was really serious. I have no idea what you want to do besides, like, lick it or something. Which doesn't sound bad, sure, but it doesn't sound that much better than what we're doing right now, and there's the added risk of my bulge getting severed at the root."

"Licking it was the full extent of my plan. Or maybe sucking? But you don't seem thrilled with the idea." Dave shrugged, a little disappointed. "If it's not your thing, it don't gotta be."

Dave watched, rapt, as Karkat's bulge wound its way around his fingers. His mouth felt dry. "So do trolls do dick battle, or what?" He shifted his weight and used his free hand to experimentally grope at Karkat's bulge, and therefore also touch Karkat's hand. "Because... man, maybe it's just me, but it looks like it'd feel really good if it got all up close and personal with my dick."

"I don't know if it's my thing or not, I mean, kissing was a definite mouth-smashing failure but your teeth were definitely blunt as fuck, so. If you really want to lick it go ahead, but I don't care either way. No biting, though, I will cry while I simultaneously cull your ass. And it'll be fucking Just, I swear to god." 

Karkat's previous weird cricket noises started up again, louder this time, "Not, not enough conscious control over my bulge to 'dick battle' with anyone, but bulges tangling with each other was definitely a thing. Scoot over here and we can try."

Dave reluctantly took his hands off Karkat, but only long enough to move closer. He parked his ass between Karkat's knees, and stretched his own legs out to rest on either side of Karkat's hips.

Wasn't this how girls scissored or whatever? Probably. 

Sweat clung to the underside of his knees, and sooner or later the pajama top was gonna have to come off. Action or no, he didn't think the god tier costume had been designed for _this_ brand of action. Too hot, in two ways.

"I'm telling you, dude, I am not gonna bite off your tentadong."

Karkat pulled his hand away from his bulge and guided it to Dave's dick, letting it wrap around it. "Shit, that's weird. That's really weird." He moved closer, breath stuttering occasionally.

"I will give you one chance to prove yourself, then," he resisted the urge to say that he didn't need his bulge if the mother grub was gone, except for funsies, "If this doesn't work out. Your ovipositor is pretty rigid and unmoving, so."

The sensation of Karkat's bulge coiling around his dick landed somewhere between a handjob and what Dave imagined a blowjob felt like. That is, it felt really, really good. 

"Shit," he breathed. "Hold on."

Dave leaned back just enough to pull his god tier top off, which he discarded somewhere behind him on the bed. As soon as he was free, he looped both arms over Karkat's shoulders. "Kinda wishing my dick was as twisty as yours, 'cause like. Damn." For lack of traditional makeout success, he kissed at his neck and jawline instead.

Karkat raised his eyebrows, "Hey, same. 'Cause right about now if you had the correct equipment, yours would be squeezing me back. This is pretty close, though, to what I would assume another bulge feels like."

He tilted his head back some to give Dave more room, running his hands up his back. "So, if I were to scratch you a little bit, on a scale of one to very how upset would you be?" Karkat asked, very pointedly keeping the tips of his nails away from the skin of Dave's back.

"You've never...?" Dave wasn't about to get hung up on it, but it was reassuring to know he wasn't alone in his slight fumbling. "I don't want you to be feeling all left out, but this feels hells of good for me."

He bit lightly at Karkat's earlobe, and tried not to breathe too heavily into the shell of his ear. Karkat's hands on his back felt good, too. Everything felt good.

"So long as we don't re-enact some horror movie bullshit on the bed."

"Holy shit, no, never," Karkat had been expecting his first time to go more like 'MUTANT, MUTANT, INITIATE CULLING SEQUENCE' so he hadn't exactly hurried to sleep with someone, even after they'd beaten Sgrub. "All in all, though, this is going better than I thought it would, at least."

"I won't even break skin, promise," he replied, rolling his hips and very lightly scratching his nails down Dave's back, "And if I do you can count it up to your rumored sexual prowess, but I highly doubt that'll happen."

"Like all the hickeys I'm gonna leave on your neck?" Dave sucked at his skin, briefly, to illustrate his point. "Guess our candy red blood is in demand right now, huh?"

His nails were more intense than a human's, but stopped just shy of hurting. Dave pressed his forehead to Karkat's shoulder and exhaled hotly on his shirt. "Take this off, man."

"Ugh, define 'in demand', because when it's pretty much the only thing left I don't think it counts," Karkat retorted, leaning back to take off his shirt and undershirt. "Leave hickeys where they can be seen and I'll leave ones twice as visible on you." 

He tossed his shirts on the floor next to his pants, not worrying about how neat they were. It was kind of hard to resist the urge to cross his arms over his chest; Dave hadn't, damn it, Karkat wouldn't hide either.

"Then do it. I ain't ashamed of this beautiful thing we got going on." Dave shuddered as Karkat's tentadick did something particularly pleasant. "Especially when it feels this fuckin' incredible." 

There were visible scars on Karkat's torso, evenly matched on each side. Dave trailed his fingertips over Karkat's skin, as if touching the marks would explain their origin.

"I'm not ashamed, you shit," Karkat grumbled, "I just don't want to deal with everyone sniffing me because Ooh Blood or ooh r3d or looking at me like they want to scrape the insides of my skull out with a rusty spoon."

He gasped, grubscars jumping under Dave's hands in time with the rise and fall of Karkat's breath, "Yes, okay, I approve, do that again."

"They're gonna look at you like, oh man, that is a dude who has seen some action from a coolkid, and we are hella jealous." 

Dave repeated the motion, but with his fingernails lightly grazing Karkat's skin instead of his fingertips. "Like that?" 

Karkat's bulge was still undulating of its own accord, and Dave was pretty sure he'd never been this hard in his life.

"Coolkid. You keep saying that, but I don't think you have even the slightest idea what a cool kid actually is. It's not you, that's for sure."

Karkat leaned into the touch, closing his eyes, "Yeah, like that. You can press a little harder, it's. Yeah." 

Without another bulge to actively tangle with, or a nook, Karkat wasn't receiving too much stimulation on his end. He was mostly enjoying the way Dave's breath went raspy whenever he did something right.

"I've got shades that graced the face of Ben Stiller, sir. I know what being cool is all about." Ironically cool, at any rate. "Are you just upset I'm not Troll Will Smith? Have you been pretending I'm him this whole time?"

It was a relief to get a reaction, since so many of his prior attempts or suggestions had been less than successful. Dave grabbed at Karkat's sides, rougher than before. Undaunted, he tried to kiss him again, at the corner of his mouth, teeth be damned.

"Yes, Dave, I've been closing my eyes and repeating the Thresh Prince theme to myself this whole time in hopes that when I open them, lo! Troll Will Smith will appear!" 

Karkat gasped, leaning forward to kiss back some and nipping lightly at Dave's bottom lip. Damn it, he was going to learn how to get his fucking teeth out of the way sooner rather than later. He pulled back, pupils blown and looking more than a little flustered, "Holy shit."

"I got in one little strife and my lusus got scared," Dave mumbled, amused with himself. "We should compare our season DVDs sometime, I got like the whole thing pirated."

Whatever he was doing had been remarkably on point. Dave dug his thumbs into Karkat's scarred skin and rubbed them in circles. "Did I find the troll clitoris?"

"Sure, but I already know mine will be at least five times better, just by sheer virtue of it being Alternian."

"What the fuck," Karkat said, managing an annoyed deadpan even in the middle of sex, "is a troll clitoris? You can't just slap troll in front of something and have me magically understand. There's just. A lot of nerves there, and that feels nice."

"What, because everybody's grey and horned?" Dave scoffed. "Racist."

Dave decided that as phenomenal as Karkat's bulge felt on his dick, this was a good point to start paying it forward. He kept one hand on Karkat's side and slid the other down to gently lift his bulge up and off, and began working his fingers along its slippery length.

"My understanding is that a clitoris is basically the same thing. Lots of nerve endings." He shrugged. "Can't claim personal experience."

"It's speciest," Karkat replied smoothly, "You anthropocentric piece of shit."

If Karkat had been reacting a lot before, that was nothing compared to now. He ducked his head down, chirring in a way that was definitely the grey-bug-alien version of moaning, and rocked against Dave's hand. "Grubscars - fuck - aren't always sexual, shitwad. Feels like getting a massage, I guess."

"It's nothing, because troll or no, Will Smith is the fucking bomb in any universe." Dave paused. "Now I'm wondering about Troll Carlton, though. What're his horns like? Studious and pencil-shaped?"

Dave used the heel of his palm to press into Karkat's side, rhythmically, and did more or less the same thing to his bulge. It was easier to move both hands the same way, especially if he was trying to talk at the same time. "You gonna let me massage your schlong with my tongue yet?"

"Sure, but Troll Will Smith is just that little bit more the fucking bomb, and the writing is probably hells of better on my end," Karkat shrugged, "They were pretty basic, yeah, but I don't think they were the actor's original horns. In close ups, you could see some curves had been filed down."

"I was _trying_ to get you off first, turdweasel, but fine," Karkat leaned back, pushing hair out of his eye, "Just don't ask me to put my mouth on your bulge in return. Razormouth."

"So a prop, right? They wouldn't file down his actual horns just for a role, would they?" Dave snuck his fingers down to tease at Karkat's nook. "What were Hilary's? Hand mirrors?"

For all the other Alternian versions of animal names, they still had weasels. Weird.

"Ain't gotta come yet. I'm gonna be more into it if I'm still rock hard, anyway." Dave made a face. "No, I don't think I'll be asking you to return the favor."

"Why not? He was just an olive, not like anyone was going to care, and he was getting paid just fine for it," Karkat shifted his legs so that Dave could get easier access without breaking his wrist, "No, they didn't all have to fit their roles, god. Horns don't match personality, you ovum. Mine would be shoutpoles if they did."

"Well, how exactly do you plan on getting off after I finish, then?" He asked, "Not that I'd put my mouth anywhere near anything that won't grow back, but my bulge goes back in after I'm done. Meaning it can't wrap around your bulge. Rod. Thing."

"For what it's worth, 'shoutpole' is one of my favorite troll words."

Dave moved to reposition himself and lay down on his stomach. He pressed one palm to Karkat's inner thigh, and used his other hand to spread open the lips of Karkat's nook with his fingertips. He was dripping wet, goddamn.

"I guess I thought maybe we'd fuck?" Dave made a noncommittal noise. "That was presumptuous of me, huh. Like, hell, I'll still enjoy myself even if it's just you watching me jack it."

"For what it's worth, 'exclamation point' is pretty much the exact same in terms of ridiculousness."

Karkat leaned back so that he was resting on his elbows, trying not to watch Dave watching him. Or to worry about his intimate bits getting mutilated. He twitched slightly, hypersensitive with anticipation. 

"Well, you said there were no 'eggs being posited,'" Karkat mused, chewing on his bottom lip in thought, "So, if you go slow as refined sugar waste, and your bulge doesn't launch neurotoxin deep into my nook or knot or anything... Hm. We'll see."

Dave had never given head to anyone, but given his egalitarian interest in various types of human junk, he was pretty goddamn okay with the nook _and_ bulge thing trolls had going on. His dick pressed into the mattress, and if he did it under the pretense of shifting his hips, he could hump on it a little without being too obvious.

"Whatever we do is cool with me." Despite his nerves, Dave ducked his head to give Karkat's bulge an experimental lick at its base. "I'm just happy to be here and shit."

"Alright," Karkat said, hips pressing forward at the light touches, "Shit, that is so weird. Don't stop."

Now, he knew Dave's teeth were blunt, but thousands of sweeps of evolution had pretty well ingrained the fact that teeth do not go near reproductive bits. "Well, I don't exactly know what I want to do, and since I'll have finished by then your input is welcome."

Karkat was wet enough that Dave didn't have to worry about sliding two fingers into his nook. He pumped them slowly, and, sensing Karkat's hesitation, decided to back off with his mouth for a second.

"We'll figure it out, it's whatever. Even if I don't come at all, like, hey. Still a good time, right?"

When he tried again, Dave licked his lips to wet them and stuck out his tongue, his teeth completely hidden from sight. It wasn't much to offer, but if Karkat's bulge just wanted something slippery to thrash against, this was a start.

Karkat let out a long, low sound. Shit, that felt good. Fingers he was used to, though his were shorter and thicker than Dave's. "That's not fair," he said, voice bordering on a whine, "But - yeah. So long as you're not upset. Cross that river-passage arch when we get to it, I guess?"

Huh. No teeth. That. That wasn't so bad. Karkat's bulge didn't have eyes, however, and promptly whapped Dave on the cheek, leaving a pink smear, before finding his mouth. "Sorry," Karkat was not laughing, no sir.

Dave laughed, a flash of white teeth that he hoped didn't freak Karkat out. "It's cool."

Although he previously only used 'cockslap' as a negative phrase, Dave was kind of into it. As long as it didn't get into his eyes, at least. He kept his fingers buried within Karkat's nook, and licked at the palm of his other hand before coaxing Karkat's bulge back towards his face. He mouthed at an arbitrary spot halfway down, careful to keep his teeth covered and lips wet.

With Karkat's bulge dripping on his mouth, keeping anything wet wasn't a challenge.

"God, dude..."

Karkat rocked his hips forward, chattering something in Alternian before abruptly switching back to English. "Holy shit, holy shit," his hands gripped and released the sheets in the absence of having anything else to do, "Rrrrst - How is that not grossing you out?"

"Yeah, I kind of am god," Karkat responded smugly, giving Dave a smirk that was probably a shade too toothy, "And I didn't even have to die."

"Because you taste good?" Dave pushed faster with his fingers, and turned his wrist to rub the pad of his thumb at what he _guessed_ was Karkat's equivalent of a taint. "And I like you? And I can't tell you how many times I got off to thinking about some version of this scenario, but with less accuracy between your legs."

He dared to stick his tongue out further, slightly exposing his incisors, but hopefully not enough to upset Karkat. He held Karkat's bulge against his cheek and licked it from base to tip. It was tough _not_ to think about how it'd feel if it was up his ass.

"So all that bullshit about a temple earlier, you weren't joking?"

Karkat shuddered, "Shit, do that again." He rolled his hips slowly; the threat of face-fucking was almost nonexistent, thank god. Troll sex usually didn't require much thrusting or pelvic movement in general, when their dongers did the work for them.

"Nope, that is one-hundred percent bonafide deity bulge you're licking," Karkat replied, poking Dave in the side with both his feet. Vengeance! "But you're not going to be absolved of your sins or any of that hoofbeast shit. It's just holy, not magical."

Dave did it again, and licked from base to tip. He also pushed his erection against the mattress, aching for any stimulation at all; not that he was about to stop anytime soon, he was just having a good time. 

"My only sin is wanting to be lustfully buried tongue-deep in your nook. Ain't repenting for that."

The rib-kicking was legit. Touché.

"Just for saying that I'm sending you to your human punishment realm," Karkat replied, though he didn't manage to sound quite as annoyed as he wanted. 

He pressed his hips forward, arching into the touch, "Shit, uh, there's a bucket under the bed, you should probably - probably grab that before you keep going." Karkat wasn't dangerously close, but he could feel the warm heat settling low in his abdomen and he knew if he didn't tell Dave to get the bucket now he'd ruin the mattress.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with eatin' a brother out." Dave pulled off entirely. As loath as he was to stop, it'd give his tongue a rest before he really went to town.

He leaned off the edge of the bed, hanging awkwardly to try to see beneath it. "Where's it at?" It was dark, but after groping at the space his fingers hit a metal handle. "Wait, I think I got it."

"You're ridiculous. This is ridiculous. Why is this my life," Karkat lamented, sitting up fully. Damn, his elbows were starting to get sore. 

"Don't fall off," he said, leaning forward in case Dave attempted to make a swan dive off his bed, "Just, like. Put it somewhere nearby. I don't want to soak the bed, I attempt to sleep on this most nights."

Dave snatched the bucket from under the bed, sat up, and set it down near the pillows. Damn, were his shades still sitting there? He took a minute to pick them up and set them on a bookshelf instead. Safer. Good.

"I dunno how taboo this is or whatever, but for the record, I am so good with you soaking my face."

Dave was hard as fuck and took an additional personal minute to give himself some attention.

Karkat's face went the approximate shade of a radish. "That's," he cleared his throat, "That's pretty taboo? I guess? You want me to come on your face. Um. Wow, okay." The idea was surprisingly hot, actually. Karkat cleared his throat once more for good measure.

"If you want me to," he said slowly, "But if you drip on the sheets you're alchemizing me new ones."

Dave gave him a nook-eating grin. "Maybe you should sit on the edge of the bed, then. Anything I don't catch can leak into the bucket."

He admired Karkat as he lazily stroked his cock; any amount it'd been flagging while he retrieved the bucket had been recovered now. "Unless you had other plans."

Karkat frowned, "I knew that! I was going to move anyway, so there." He stuck his tongue out at Dave and moved so he was sitting on the edge of the bed, swinging his legs.

He gave his bulge a few lazy strokes, more for keeping his interest up than actually getting off. "No, your plan is fine, I don't care either way. Go ahead," Karkat very clearly did care at least one way, and that way was what Dave had suggested. Not that he'd ever admit it, but many of his aborted half-fantasies involved exactly that.

Dave grabbed his god tier pajamas and used them to pad his knees on the tile. They were lumpy and uneven, but he didn't think Karkat would appreciate him using a pillow.

"You're fuckin' dripping wet for somebody who doesn't care." Dave pushed Karkat's thighs apart and wasted no time in getting to work. He ducked his head to press his lips against Karkat's nook, and licked flat between the labia (? could he call them that? he had no idea) to clear away some of the genetic material.

Karkat smelled like sweat and like whatever the technical term was for the fluid, which was serous and tasted very slightly acidic. Dave was so completely pro whatever-that-was.

Karkat - for once - had nothing to say to that, besides an indignant grumble. He spent a few moments trying to pretend he really was indifferent, but his poker face was nowhere near as practiced as Dave's.

His movements belied how much he was enjoying himself, anyway; Karkat was arching into it almost as soon as Dave put his mouth on him. "Maybe I'm just - ngh - humoring you, because I feel bad for you or something," Karkat said finally, in a storm of chattering and hissing that could only be Alternian. 

Teeth? What teeth? After the initial fear of his junk getting severed at the root, Karkat had pretty much forgotten there was any danger in the first place.

As far as Dave was concerned, there had never been any danger. Full stop. The worst Karkat could experience would be Dave's lack thereof, but enthusiasm made up for it in spades. Or maybe hearts, or maybe nothing quadrant-specific at all. All he knew was he wanted to make Karkat come, and the further they went, the more certain he was he could do just that.

"You're letting me give you pity-head?" Dave lapped quickly between Karkat's folds and swallowed the material that'd gathered on his tongue. "Is that what you're saying?"

The Alternian was hot. It didn't directly translate into anything in English, but Dave realized he understood the gist of it. Another god tier bonus. He flexed his fingers against Karkat's thighs once more before sliding his hands around to grab his ass and haul him forward onto his waiting tongue.

Karkat spluttered at the word pity. "What, are you saying, that I pity you? What exactly do you mean by that, do you pity me?"

His voice was getting dangerously close to a shriek, and that wasn't good for anyone. What was a good thing was that getting head, pity or otherwise, was very distracting. The Quadrant Freakout: brought to you by Karkat Vantas would have to wait until later with the way Dave was going at it.

"I'm not sure I like the implications of what - fffuck, don't stop." [He put his hand in Dave's hair, not pulling or tugging, just petting gently like he had been earlier.](http://freakyhumanshit.tumblr.com/post/99301989050/its-a-good-thing-his-action-pajamas-are-already)

Dave realized too late that he should've chosen a different description for what they were doing. "Didn't plan on stopping any time soon."

Unfazed (but amused), he used the new angle of Karkat-nearly-hanging-off-the-bed to drive his tongue as far inside his nook as it could go. He did his best to keep his lips moving on the external skin, too, and tried to ignore the urgent throbbing in his cock for the time being.

Karkat's hand on the back of his head was encouraging. Downright affectionate, even.

Karkat groaned, letting his free hand tangle with his momentarily ignored bulge. He rocked sharply against Dave's face, mouth falling open in a moan that was loud enough Karkat snapped his mouth closed right after, in fear that someone had heard.

"Shit, fuck, okay bucket, bucket now," he grabbed the bucket off the pillows and nearly whacked Dave on the head with it in his haste to get it in the splash zone. Suave.

Anticipation rushed through the pit of Dave's stomach. He grabbed the bucket by its edge and nudged it up under Karkat's ass, under his own chin. If he could successfully hold it there through Karkat's climax, he'd feel accomplished.

Dave said nothing—couldn't, really—but chuckled in his throat and moaned appreciatively as Karkat bucked into his mouth. He closed his eyes and threw himself entirely into the task of eating him out. After another minute of tonguefucking, he pulled back to alternate soft, flat licks with pointed, hurried flicking. The ample lubrication on his tongue and lips went a long way towards keeping everything slick and satisfying.

He moved his right hand to assist Karkat's efforts. He couldn't sacrifice his steadier, dominant left hand to the task, if spilling genetic material was really such a big deal, but having his bulge so close and untouched seemed criminal.

Karkat shuddered, giving little warning besides a gasp when he came. It wasn't in spurts, but more a singular wave (tsunami?) of red that hit Dave rather abruptly. Karkat was scooting back and pushing Dave off him almost as soon as he was done, overstimulated and hypersensitive. 

He flopped back onto the mattress, feeling largely at peace with the world.

"Okay, so was me soaking your face everything you hoped and dreamed it'd be?" Karkat asked, slowly sitting back up after a few more moments of just lying there and breathing. "I...gotta say, yeah, that was better than I thought. You did not bite my bulge off, and that was. Damn."

Dave kept his tongue pliant and receptive, which reminded him oddly of trying to catch a snowflake on his tongue, which he had never done before LOFAF. It was bad timing for any sort of reverie because Karkat's orgasm was unrelenting. He valiantly licked at him for the first few seconds, but lost control right away and let Karkat pail into the bucket.

He held the bucket still, even as genetic material plunked and then sloshed into it. It was like something from a cumshot-obsessed porn clip with an unrealistic payoff, except in his hand he held a literal bucket of semen. Goddamn.

Tang, while normally a kick in the glass, had been a kick in the face in this instance. Some of Karkat's genetic material had gone slightly up his nose. Dave wiped at his face with his right hand, which after handling Karkat's bulge wasn't doing much to help. He set the bucket on the floor, careful not to spill it, and climbed on the bed to sink down beside Karkat.

"Yeah. 'Damn' is about right." Dave smirked at him. "This was way better in real life than Dave's Adventures in Hypothetical Bullshit-land."

"God damn it, every time. I always forget that I'm going to have to wash that shit in the ablution trap," Karkat grumbled, grimacing at the bucket. "That was definitely better than beating it to tragic, starcrossed lovers for the nth time, though, I have to agree with you there."

He fidgeted with a loose string on his bedsheets, trying to put on the most casual air he could, "Sooo... do you still want to get off, or is living vicariously through melodramatic troll orgasms good enough for you?"

Karkat gave a pointed glance to Dave's crotch rocket, then back to his face, "After you wipe your filthy fucking face off, I mean, but that's pretty much a given."

"Do you have your own bathroom in here?" Dave asked. He hadn't noticed when he'd walked in, but then, he hadn't been paying attention to much else besides Karkat himself.

He grabbed for his god tier outfit and wiped at his face with it. No sense in leaving an actual nookstain on anything that wasn't already red. After kneeling on it, he was gonna have to wash this today, anyway.

"I would totally like to get off." Dave glanced to him, and couldn't stop himself from grinning. "Although watching you come _was_ both satisfying and melodramatic."

"No, why? Does your block have one? I have to get the pail empty and clean and, you know, not fucking disgusting, without someone noticing in the ablution block that everyone uses. I can't just let it sit under my bed."

Karkat scoffed, "I try my best. Do you have a preferred method of getting off or would you just like me to gaze tenderly at it until you get so embarrassed you somehow achieve climax?"

He looked at Dave's feet, which still had socks on them, and covered his face with his hands, sighing as though those foot garments were the cause to all of his problems. "Oh my god. Oh my taintlicking fuck, I let you give me head without taking your socks off. You gave me head without taking your socks off!"

"My block totally has one. Next time we'll fuck in there." Dave didn't see what the problem was, though. "You know that Kanaya and Rose wash a bucket out in there like once a day, right?" 

Dave flopped back to sink against the pillows, horny and happy in equal measure. He reached down to lightly stroke himself and considered the offer. "Not gonna lie, even a handjob sounds really good right now."

His socks had in fact been a cause of Karkat's problems for the past hour. "He who keeps his socks on loseth them not."

"I - ugh, they have no shame," Karkat replied, only pausing for a moment when he heard the 'next time,' "I, however, am a troll with proper fucking decorum and won't be caught. Ever."

He pulled his legs up onto the bed and thought about it momentarily, "Alright, if that's what you want." Karkat had thought about fucking, but his bulge was soft and Dave's was...not. Maybe next time, but after he'd already come it just sounded painful and kind of unpleasant.

"He who keepeth his socks on gets handjobs not," Karkat said, raising his eyebrows, "You nasty fuck. What if you poke me with them, huh? How can I trust you with those stupid socks on. I can't, that's how."

"Human feet are dangerous, my dude. Have you ever seen us without footwear? You're in for a goddamn surprise." He shrugged. "If it's a dealbreaker, though, I guess we can brave it."

Dave pulled his knees to his chest so he could reach his socks without sitting up. He gradually pulled one down over his ankle and deliberately made a way bigger deal of the gesture than it should've been. He paused before removing it. 

"I mean, are you _sure_?"

"Dave," Karkat said warningly, prodding Dave with his own foot, "Take the socks off before I remove your feet with them. There's nothing there that's so dangerous a troll couldn't handle it and you know it."

Karkat watched Dave take the sock off in his theatrical fashion and rolled his eyes, "Are you trying to give me a striptease? _Yes_ , I am sure. I am so sure that if my will was any stronger a chorus of human angels would have already descended from the heavens and told you to take your fucking socks off. Sometime before I die, preferably."

Dave laughed. "I'd say don't ruin my fun, but my fun has already been legit as fuck."

He took off his socks without any additional fanfare and tossed them to the floor, vaguely in the direction of his other clothing. Nothing exciting happened with his feet. For a minute he watched Karkat, expectantly, trying to figure out how to best phrase his next words.

"Um, so, I know that our previous two attempts at making out were woeful failures, but is that a thing we could try some more?" He grinned, embarrassed, unable to stop from smiling. "Because I wanna mack on you some more."

Karkat gave Dave a look that was equal parts exasperated and fond, "Third time's the charm is the phrase, right? Just keep mashing faces until something works or one of us gets too embarrassed to continue."

That was probably not the best strategy, but whatever. Karkat leaned forward, "Is it technically macking if we're horrible at it? At least, I'm horrible at it, I wouldn't know how much experience you have."

Okay, kissing. That was a thing that needed to happen. Fuck the overbite and sharp teeth. Karkat tilted his head and managed to - thankfully - avoid any initial nose-bumping or clacking teeth when he pressed his lips to Dave's.

"You're not horrible, you've just got like, ten experience points." Dave spread his legs so Karkat could settle between them, and reached up to loop his arms around Karkat's shoulders. "Grub's first makeouts or whatever."

He was still fairly turned on, although his erection had calmed down somewhat in the interim. Dave closed his eyes and kissed him, cautious. He wasn't a huge fan of bleeding when it wasn't strictly necessary, and his teeth were scary as fuck.

"I think a grub would only be interested in how edible you were," Karkat reached down and gave Dave's dick a few light strokes before pulling his hand away and deciding that multitasking was probably best left to the pros. And people without knives for teeth. 

Kissing was actually pretty enjoyable when you weren't busy making out with someone's enamel. Karkat found a rhythm, soon enough, and while he wasn't trained-professional levels of kissing by any means, he had at least a few more than ten experience points.

"If we're being honest, I am fairly goddamn edible." Dave's breath caught in his throat when Karkat began to touch him; between that and the kissing, his toes curled of their own volition.

As short lived as it was, Dave didn't mind terribly when Karkat shifted his focus solely to making out. The weight of him was warm and solid and Dave decided he could do with wrapping his legs around Karkat's waist, too.

"You feel good." Captain of Obvious. Not a great SBURB title.

Karkat rolled his eyes and flicked Dave's shoulder, "No, you'd probably make even the toughest grub vomit for at least a minute solid. Too many 'irony layers.'"

He nipped lightly at Dave's bottom lip, nowhere near hard enough to bleed but enough to quell the cavetroll MUST BITE response. Karkat pressed closer to Dave, hands resting lightly on his thighs, "Can you get off like this? I mean, I can tell the mouth is an erogenous zone for you but I'm not exactly sure how far that goes?"

"My irony layers are what make me complex and beautiful, like a parfait. Or an ogre." If there was an inappropriate time to misquote Shrek, Dave wasn't aware of it.

The biting was something Dave enjoyed more than he'd readily admit. He bit at Karkat's upper lip in response, which wasn't as satisfying as his fleshier lower lip, but hey. It was what he could reach. 

"Probably not, unless you want me to hump at your stomach for a million years." He moved a hand up to play with Karkat's hair. Was horn touching a thing? He was gonna make it a thing. He rubbed his thumb at the base of one, right where it met his scalp.

"They're also what make you completely disgusting and inedible, like, say, a compost heap. Where, like a fossil record, you can see what people ate on a day to day basis. Yours would be entirely Doritos."

Well, if Dave was biting back Karkat was certainly not going to object. He'd just heard that humans liked it gentle, some sick pale-red mixture so tender it would only make it on the filthiest Alternian porn sites. He kept it up, biting occasionally but always cautious of how hard he was doing it.

"Please don't hump my stomach that long, you'll give me indigestion." Horn touching was totally a thing. Karkat made... a noise, one that wasn't entirely sexual but definitely conveyed 'yes, more of that' and went a little limp.

"Man cannot live on Doritos alone, Vantas, although they _are_ some mad snacks, yo."

Dave pulled away from the kissing to look up at Karkat. His joking bullshit was typical of their dynamic, but for all the posturing, he was as unguarded as he'd ever been. He gave Karkat a fond, small smile, and raised his other hand to join the first in rubbing at his horns.

"You're like a baby goat." The keratin was not a texture he'd ever expected atop someone's head, despite hair being essentially the same thing. He'd almost forgotten that Karkat _had_ horns. Kanaya's, Terezi's, and Gamzee's were hard to ignore, but Karkat's could've been hidden by just a little more unruly hair. He moved his fingers to explore towards the tip, rather than next to his skin. "Can you even, like, feel this?"

Karkat butted his head up against Dave's hand, like a cat trying to get its human to pet it more, and sighed. "Mnh, not as much, just. The vibrations. It's a sensory organ, that's what it's for. 'S relaxing. Except for where I'm a baby goat. Which I'm not, you ass."

Relaxing was the understatement of the sweep. It was an intimately pale gesture to touch someone's horns, especially to groom them or to calm the other person down. The trust implications were mostly symbolic with Karkat, since he couldn't do much more than leave some bruises with his horns as small and blunt as they were, but it was still touching. In short, he was little more than a puddle of troll at this point.

"I'm not an ass, I'm a burro. Get it right." Dave drummed his fingertips on Karkat's scalp as if he were playing air piano. "This doing anything for you?"

From what he'd gleaned from various troll media (lent to him by any of the three remaining trolls who actually made an appearance in his daily life; he wasn't sure Gamzee's interests went far past just music) they were engaged in what would be considered quadrant vacillation. Was this flushed? Pale? Who knew?

It was the first time in his life he'd really gotten to chill out and shower someone with affection, even—or especially—if that affection was dumb puns and poorly administered head massages.

Karkat flopped forward and buried his head in the crook of Dave's neck. "I thought you wanted to fuck," he whined, "This is not fucking, you—ugh. _Asshole_."

The drumming was kind of disorienting, actually, hence Karkat's befuddled whining. Where were the vibrations coming from? His horns? His head? Was someone stomping their way down the hall? Who knew! The vacillating was only a minor concern compared to the syrupy feeling from the mixed relaxation and confusion.

"Stop it," he grumbled, "Go back to doing the other thing. I bite, I swear to god."

"I know you do. You were biting me mere minutes ago! Minutes, Karkat." Dave relented, and returned to rubbing at the base of Karkat's horns. He wondered briefly if trolls dealt with dandruff, then tried not to think about it too much. His previous efforts to translate troll biology and culture into something analogous to his human experiences had largely been useless. If there was anything he'd learned from SBURB thus far, it was that when weird shit happened, he should roll with it and go from there.

Weird shit like winding up in Karkat Vantas' bed. That was a very acceptable variety of 'weird'.

"Gotta say, I'm not that hung up on it." He left Karkat's horns alone for the time being and idly combed his fingers through his hair, instead. "It's whatever."

Karkat relaxed, "I meant bite as in attempt to eat you. Maim. That kind of thing." The rubbing was nice, kind of like feeling thunder from far away without the risk of lightning. Karkat honestly was more likely to fall asleep at this point than to do anything sexy.

"Not fair," he mumbled, "But I mean. If you really don't mind. This is nice."

It was kind of funny how things work out. This had started with hair petting and now it seemed to be ending with it. "...You wanna put pants on? I've never actually snuggled someone in the nude, this is a new experience."

"I used to love pants," Dave mused. "But now? I think the torrid affair between me and pants may have come to an end."

He took a deep breath, then exhaled just as deeply. It was hard not to feel exhausted after all that. The warmth and closeness weren't helping. (Or maybe they were, and that was the problem, if it could even be considered one.)

"If we ever get back up, we can use the shower in my room. We both kinda need it."

The bucket on the floor needed prompt attention, too. Leaving that around was bound to be unfortunate.

"No, fuck you, I'm going to stew in my filth and you can't stop me," Karkat said, going even more limp against Dave. Okay, so he was pretty sticky and gross, but also insanely comfortable and drowsy from all of the horn rubs.

"You're putting on pants if we go to take a shower, fuckhead. I'm not letting you start a one man nudist colony. That can wait until after we beat the game, you fucking sicko." Karkat yawned, shifting and grimacing. Yep, that was definitely the aftermath of swamp crotch. Eugh. Okay, he did need a shower, and the stupid bucket needed washing.

"If you ever get back together with your formerly beloved pants, we can go clean up. And wash the bucket. That's nasty." He didn't really want to move; sleeping sounded like a great idea, especially since he didn't often, but getting clean before his spunk started crusting was imperative.

"You can't join my nudist colony because we don't accept slimy, unshowered people." Dave scratched lightly through Karkat's hair, down back to the nape of his neck, and looked up at him fondly. "If you bathe I'll reconsider your application."

Dave reluctantly acknowledged the need to get up. If they waited any longer, he'd conk out, whether he wanted to or not. With effort akin to raising Gl'bgolyb with a fishing line, Dave shifted out from under Karkat's weight and sat up.

He stretched his arms and tried to work a kink out of his neck. "Let's just get washed up and get it over with. Grab whatever you need from here and we can chill in my room."

Karkat resisted the urge to ignore Dave and roll over and go to sleep. "Who says I'd even apply, that sounds disgusting. Count me out whether or not I shower. No one needs to see me naked. Especially not constantly."

He sat up, chilly without Dave there, and reluctantly pulled his pants on. "Alright. You better have an array of soaps for me to wash with. I'm delicate." More like picky. He didn't want to smell floral or fruity, and he definitely didn't want to smell like alchemized Man Soap. 

Karkat grabbed his undershirt and shoes, and after a moment of deliberation picked up his book as well. If he couldn't sleep more than a few hours it'd be nice to have something to do. "Alright, let's go before I start crunching while I walk."

"We only got so much on the meteor but I can hook you up," Dave assured him.

The god tier clothing would need a wash as soon as possible, but for now, Dave was going to wear it back to his room. His shades made it back onto his face, where they goddamn well belonged. He stuffed his socks into his shoes and picked them up with one hand. The other was, unfortunately, going to carry the bucket.

Such was life.

He unlocked the door to Karkat's block, and checked that the hallway was clear. So far, so good. If they could make it all the way back without anyone noticing, he felt it'd merit an Achievement with a capital A. The Solid Snake award, maybe? His bare feet would help keep quiet, at least.

"Why are our rooms so far apart?" he complained.

"Because we barely knew each other when we picked our rooms, probably?" Karkat said, shrugging. Oh man, Dave had to carry the bucket. That was. Welp. "Please don't spill that... Uh. If you carry my book I can get it."

He realized belatedly that he should probably talk more quietly, lest someone come and try to strike up a conversation with them. Or even look in their general direction, actually.

God _damn_ it was cold on the meteor. Karkat should've grabbed his overshirt, holy shit. He was going to freeze to death and die, past him was fucking stupid. "Walk faster, my entire top half is going to get frostbite."

"I dunno. I'm kind of afraid to hand it off." The bucket was sloshing uncomfortably close to the edge as it was. Years of rooftop practice had given him ridiculously fine-tuned balance; maybe this was best left in his control, after all. "Besides, the other half went on my face, so it's not like it's shit I haven't seen before."

They made it to Dave's room without any interruptions, although Dave could swear he heard honking as they passed a particular air register. Once they were safely in his bedroom, Dave made a beeline for the bathroom and poured the contents of the bucket down the toilet.

"Let me tell you, Karkat, it was _gaping_ at that load."

Karkat watched warily the rest of the way to Dave's block, but he didn't spill it or accidentally splash it on someone. So. That was good. Karkat's balance was good but not that good, and he'd probably have spilled it all over the place when he heard a honk come out of an air grate. Fucking hell.

He sat down on Dave's bed and put his stuff there, there was just nowhere else to put it. Dave's room was a mess. Karkat practically cringed just walking in; the blatant lack of organization made his hands itch. He looked up when Dave came out of the ablution block and grimaced, "You're absolutely disgusting. Dibs on first wash."

Bluuurgh, if his pants weren't at least a little stained by now it would be a miracle. Karkat stood back up and pushed his way past Dave into the ablution block. Thank the Condesce's glorious derriere for ablution chambers.

"That may be, but I _am_ the reason you don't have to wash that out in the public bathroom." A beat. "I'm also the reason you you need to wash it out at all, but hey."

Dave flopped down heavily on his bed and strained to grab the book, which was just slightly out of arm's reach. May as well continue reading it, if he had some time to kill. He'd started to hate that idiom, though.

He lay sideways on the bed and looked at Karkat from over top of the novel. "Do what you gotta do, there's plenty of shit in there. Use whatever you want."

Alchemizing soap had been a tricky procedure, much for the same reason as alchemizing an apple. Rose had been right, of course. After a lot of effort with Perfectly Generic Objects, he'd produced scentless bar soap. This he'd then reserved as building material to cross with his SBaHJ comics (to create a full line of  BOTH and  SPAM products, including cologne like Subway Stank and Squirrel Odor), Karkat's Thresh Prince DVDs (Homes Smell Ya Later sickle-scented shampoo), and an apple (body wash that scent reminded one uncomfortably of Howie Mandel's monster urine).

Karkat had options, but they were largely not good ones.

Karkat had his own bottle of sickle scent, safely stowed away where no one would ever use it. His favorite he'd mixed with a poster of troll Will Smith on the Alternian analogue of Hitch, to produce 'Love Doctor's smooth and sensual romance scented shampoo -perfect for couples!!' (romance apparently smells faintly of rose petals and rain. Pretentious) but that was back in the public bathroom.

So. It was the suspicious SBaHJ soap, the metallic sickle scent, or what was apparently 'apple' scented. It was so not apple, what the fuck did Dave even use to make that. Karkat sighed. Homes Smell Ya Later it was.

He washed off as quickly as he could, giving a suspicious glance towards a bottle labeled Squirrel Odor after he had finished showering and was attempting to tame his hair. What did nutbeast even smell like?? It couldn't hurt to just take a sniff...

And that was how Karkat ended up spluttering and coughing his way out of the ablution block. "What the fuck did you alchemize, Dave? It smells like rotten ass."

Dave looked up from the novel (which had reached the inciting incident, as the apprentice docterrorist failed the board exam and had to seek comfort from an estranged ex-moirail) and eyed Karkat. "The potential causes of your revulsion are plentiful, so you're gonna have to be more specific."

In the interim, he'd taken his god tier clothing back off, since they'd gotten grody. It was his room, anyway. Texan summers were unforgiving, and Dave had long since become accustomed to hanging around in boxers and not much else.

"The- augh, the Squirrel Odor thing, it's appalling. What the fuck possessed you to make that?" Karkat sat down on the bed and pulled on his boxers and undershirt, "I don't think I've ever been offended by a smell before today. It was legitimately frightening, as though the horrorterrors themselves came down from the depths of fuck-off nowhere and made that scent just to scare and disgust me."

He grumbled a few more choice phrases about exactly what he thought of a SBaHJ line of hygiene products before leaning over to not-so-subtly read over Dave's shoulder. "See, this is my favorite part- cause you think it's gonna be your stereotypical highblood/lowblood blackrom thing, and then out of nowhere it takes a nosedive into some really beautiful pale conflict. The main character needs to get her shit together so bad, it's embarrassing."

Karkat rested his head against Dave's shoulder and smelled something reminiscent to Subway Stank - day old unwashed boy musk mixed with the smell of sex. It was not pleasant. Karkat wasted no time informing Dave of exactly how gross that was. "Dude, you need to shower before your stink becomes its own line of  both and spam products. Eau de Unwashed Strider is not a pleasant scent."

"You're not joking. What did I even _smoke_? That is insane." Dave chuckled to himself. One of these days he'd convince Karkat to read SBaHJ. "And to tell you the truth, I'm having a rough time empathizing with the main character. All my quadrants are in order and I've never flunked out of medical school."

"You're the one who called dibs on the shower, dicknut." He put the open book on Karkat's face and got up. "Unless there was an open invitation to the interspecies shower party and I missed it so bad that I didn't find the envelope in a stack of mail until like half a year after I got jealous of seeing everybody's selfies at some sweet shindig I didn't know I was supposed to crash."

Dave took off his boxers and left them sitting on the floor. At least one of the piles of clothing was clean. He'd gotten into the bad habit of leaving freshly laundered clothing in the clothes hamper, and using laundry baskets for dirty clothes. Whoops.

"If you showered with me we'd have gotten all sticky and gross, what would the point of that even be. Showers are for getting clean, asswad," Karkat replied, grabbing the book before he inhaled a noseful of paper-smell. "Wait, hang on, what did you mean 'your quadrants are in order'? What are you implying with that, what quadrant did you think this was?"

What did Dave think they were? Was he saying he was pale for him? Flushed? Oh, hell, spades? He didn't do the quadrant thing, Karkat thought, which is why he went along with it and had fun, planning to royally freak out in the privacy of his block later on after Dave had left. Which didn't seem to be happening. What the fuck.

Aaaand, before he heard him, Dave was in the ablution block. Great. Excellent. Wonderful. Karkat glared at the cover of his book like this was all its fault - which it was, in a way, if you squinted - and closed it. He concentrated on what he'd say, how he wouldn't freak out about quadrants and propriety and tradition too openly, and tried not to panic.

"My coordinate plane ain't subdivided." Dave set his shades on his computer desk before entering the bathroom. "Are we gonna fight about math again?"

Unbeknownst to Karkat, Dave had one plain bar of Irish Spring stored in the cabinet. He used this to wash up; smelling the exact same as Karkat would be kind of weird. He briefly considered getting in a quick fap, but it felt inconsiderate to do so with Karkat on the other side of the door.

Ten minutes later he emerged with damp, toweled-off hair and began to rummage through a stack of clothes to find a clean pair of boxers to put on. He was _fairly_ sure the blue laundry basket was the most recent load he'd run. Hm.

"Ugh, you ass," Karkat sighed, "I just want to know what you want out of this, so that I don't do what I always do and fuck it up by expecting something different and trying to pressure you into it. Okay? Can we, oh, I don't know, not with the bullshit metaphors when it comes to my culture's relationships, douchebag."

He pretended to leaf through his book while Dave changed and looked pointedly away, even though he'd pretty much seen everything there was to see. "'Cause, I dunno if that was a casual fuck or, you know. Not a casual fuck. And if I act like it wasn't and start trying to act quadranty with you in public when you only wanted a one night thing, that's going to fucking ruin our friendship. I know these things."

Not that his previous situation had been exactly like this, but Karkat wasn't goddamn stupid. Boy likes boy, boy fucks boy, boy gets too fucking clingy and other boy eventually gets weirded out and leaves. It was pretty fucking simple.

Dave had thought about all this while he'd been in the shower. He'd crushed on people before, of course, back when his life resembled something akin to normalcy and he'd been in school. SBURB and its ensuing fallout had granted him autonomy he'd never had on Earth. Watching his various selves die over and over again had forced him to think about the choices he made in the alpha timeline.

God, he hoped this wasn't going to somehow doom the timeline.

"If you don't want a Thing it don't gotta be a Thing." Dave pulled on a pair of Muppet Babies pajama pants (the alchemization of which he'd rather not discuss) and sat next to Karkat on the bed. "But I like you, so hey. There's that."

Karkat shrugged, "I dunno, I. I like you, I want a thing, I think, but I don't know what I want. You piss me off _so much_ , but I don't see you as a rival. I like just sitting and talking with you, but I don't feel the same way about you as I do Gamzee. And I want to hold your hand sometimes, and do stupid gooshy date things, but it's not flush either."

He gnawed on his lip. Quadrants were hard, how did someone ever keep someone in them without fucking up royally? The only real quadrant Karkat had was Gamzee, and they talked once a perigee if he was lucky. Augh.

"If you want a thing, I want a thing, but I can't decide what I want. So," Karkat fiddled with a loose thread on the hem of his shirt, swinging his legs aimlessly, "I always do that, it's kind of my trademark. I guess it's kind of a Vantas trait to suck at romance, so it's whatever."

"Is human romance totally off the table?" Dave watched Karkat kick his legs on the edge of the bed, and subconsciously began to copy his movements. "It sounds like you just wanna date me."

Karkat had run down the checklist of things Dave figured he'd want in a relationship, too: giving each other shit, shooting the shit, fooling around and shit. A shitty romance, then. Preferably without any actual scat.

"I'm no troll Casanova over here, even though I joke like I am." Dave gave him an easy, reassuring smile. "So we can figure all that crap out together, and inevitably fuck it all up together."

Karkat thought about it, "Sure, I guess, even though your human romances are vastly inferior. I'm down for inevitably fucking everything up, let's do it." He raised his eyebrows, "Though, dude, if this dooms the timeline you need to send future you back here to warn us, I am so fucking done with dooming everyone. So done. The donest. I'm gonna get a tattoo that says 'fucking' on one asscheek and 'done' on the other, that's how done I am."

He leaned back until he was laying down on the bed with his legs hanging off and looked at the ceiling, "By the way, which soap did you use? You don't smell like ass or whatever the fuck was in that apple shampoo, and I'm not gonna sniff myself to compare but I don't remember sickles not smelling like anything except 'vaguely repulsive.'"

Karkat was kind of regretting giving up and just using the stupid Thresh Prince soap, now. Maybe he should've risked his olfactory glands if it meant he could not smell like a revenant who met an untimely end at the hands of Troll Will Smith.

"If it'd doom us, and I come back to warn us, I'd've shown up before we ever fucked, wouldn't I?" Dave wasn't sure he'd gotten all the verb conjugations right, but grammar got increasingly tricky the more time travel became involved. "So if we're doomed, it's already too late and we got no warning. Or, shit's cool and our fuckfest is approved by the timeline powers that be."

Dave remained sitting up but shifted his weight so he wouldn't have to pull an Exorcist to watch Karkat. He shrugged. "I had a backup bar of Irish Spring."

Karkat mulled that over for a moment, "Hm. Yeah. I'm going to assume we're pretty much already dead and are going to be lasered to double-death by the green bodybuilder guy." And then if they weren't violently fucking murdered it was a pleasant surprise. Win win all around.

"You bastard," Karkat said, completely without malice, "I'm never forgiving you. It's actually a huge cultural faux pas not to give your quadrantmate the better soap. This is an affront on my very being."

Dave huffed. "You know what? I think you're a goddamn liar, Vantas." He sank down onto the mattress and lay perpendicular to Karkat, behind his head. "Plus we aren't in a quadrant, so you're not my quadrantmate."

Dave had noticed the pristine bar of Irish Spring in the bathroom cabinet one day, a year into their travel. He hadn't questioned it. Gift soap should not be looked in the... mouth.

He resumed playing with Karkat's hair, but swiftly reconsidered when he realized how damp it still was. Dave rolled onto his back and joined Karkat in his ceiling-staring.

Karkat scoffed, "Don't judge my culture. It's exactly as true as the time you tried to tell me the significance of smuppets in Earth society. So who's really the liar here? I think it's you."

Karkat scooted back so his upper legs were on the bed and rested his head against Dave's stomach, leaving a little bit of a wet spot from his hair. "Okay, fine, got me on the quadrantmate thing. What exactly do I call you, then. Humanmate? Concupiscent partner? My person???" Why was romance so hard.

"Smuppets are an unavoidable part of everyday life," Dave countered. "For me, at least. I never said it was the same for everyone else." 

The wet hair was tolerable since it wasn't soaking into any fabric. Dave himself was fairly goddamn waterproof. "It sounds hella lame and feels really fucking weird to officially say it, but I guess you could be my boyfriend." Dave wrinkled his nose. "Sounds _really_ fuckin' weird."

Karkat rolled his eyes, "Have you been secretly alchemizing smuppets when I wasn't looking? That's pretty weird, dude."

He snorted a laugh, shrugging, "I could always refer to you as my lover, you know, if you wanted to make everyone in paradox space really fucking uncomfortable. Boyfriend. Heh." Karkat made a face, "The whole idea is kind of weird. Damn. Good weird but. Yeah, weird."

What an unnecessary question. "How do you think I alchemized the communicator?" Smuppet ass was obviously a component.

The urge to somehow parody Billie Jean was nigh irresistible. "Ew, no. The instant we become lovers," Dave raised his hands to do airquotes, "Is the instant my life becomes a sappy romance novel."

Oh god. Maybe it was already too late.

"I thought you had a pathological fear of their bulbous eyes," Karkat said, "I just figured you, like, used smuppet-print pajamas or something for the base. I don't exactly ponder the ways you got a green ass on the communicator, it's not something I want to think about."

Karkat looked over and raised his eyebrows, "Sappy my ass, you were just reading one. You're doomed, anyway, I'm not sure how you think you can court me, human-style or not, without enough drama to fill several tragic novels and maybe a movie. Accept your fate."

Dave went quiet for an uncomfortable moment. "They don't bother me like they used to."

Bro's death wasn't something he liked to dwell on, but it hadn't stopped bothering him. It'd been long enough for him to heal somewhat—over a year, now, which was insane to think about—but the moment was approaching in which he'd meet his brother's alternate universe counterpart. He was utterly unprepared to deal with that. What a sobering thought.

"It's accepted, melodrama included." Dave tried to smile. "I reserve the right to continue mocking you viciously for your taste in media."

Karkat sat up and frowned; he hadn't been told in detail how smuppets related to Dave's human lusus, but he wasn't dense enough to not realize he'd struck a sore note. Dense, but not that dense. A verbal apology would just be embarrassing, though - he and Dave would just pass guilt around and try to brush it off like nothing happened.

Karkat shuffled around so he was parallel to Dave, instead, and lied down so he was facing him. "My taste in media is splendid, you butt. Roll over, we're spooning. It's happening. I may not be great at kissing, but I'm the king of snuggles. Move the fuck over."

Dave's initial reaction was to shut down the suggestion. Years of societal conditioning told him to scoff at the idea, like he was too good for it, like he never experienced any vulnerability or desire to be held and comforted.

Well, if cuddling made him gay, blowing a dude had done a lot more to that end.

"Did you inherit the title? Was Crabdad the former king?" Dave rolled over as he'd been told and grabbed to pull Karkat's hand around to rest at his chest. "Or is that not how the power transfers?"

"Actually, when I crawled out of my shell the jadebloods gazed upon me in awe and said, 'my god! This boy....he is the master of all the conciliatory arts!' and then they dubbed me king of snuggles." Karkat replied, trying not to inhale Dave's hair and mostly succeeding. "If it was eight letters it'd be my adult title, is what I'm saying."

He shrugged some at the Crabdad remark. Eugh, it seemed talking about dead guardians was a theme here. "Uh, no, Dad was the master of shrieking and clacking passive-aggressively at you until the dishes got done. Snuggles weren't exactly his forte, I think the most he did was, like, affectionately conk me on the head with his claws when I was a wiggler. It's. Whatever."

It didn't bother Karkat quite to the degree that it would a human, but he did still miss his lusus. He let as little of that feeling into his tone, though it was still more than he'd like; he'd made the mistake first.

Dave laughed, though the sound was halfway muffled against the mattress. "Sign me up for front-row seats to the coronation."

Swordfighting with Bro on the roof had seemed like such a basic component of life, it'd made Dave uneasy when he realized his friends didn't get nearly so physically violent with their guardians. It was a relief to know that Karkat had a shared experience, somewhat.

He wedged himself back against Karkat and exhaled deeply, then yawned. He felt safe, which was rare these days.

Karkat echoed the yawn, kind of nuzzling his face against Dave's back. "Sorry, the coronation is coolkids only, meaning you are so excluded. The most excluded. Kankri's stupid pariah complex cannot even begin to reach the depths of how exiled you are from this event."

He may or may not have closed his eyes and attempted to scoot closer to Dave, as though there was any closer to be had, "You can come to the after party, though, if you're really nice. We'll see. It may require some creative begging on your part, though."

"The party don't start 'til I walk in. You oughta know that much."

Karkat smelled metallic. It'd be easy to chalk it up to bullshit game mechanics and flowery prose if Dave didn't know for fact that he'd used sickle-scented body wash. Dave brought Karkat's hand to his mouth and kissed at his thumb. So he was feeling sentimental; no big deal, right?

"I can't sleep like this," he admitted. "But I can doze like this."

Karkat shrugged, "If you describe party as everyone falling asleep whilst you attempt to croon your sick fires directly into their aural canals."

Karkat flushed and, glad Dave couldn't see his face, pressed a few light kisses to the back of Dave's neck. He was pretty much internally keysmashing; holy shit, Strider was actually offering affection without having to be beaten over the head with it, the world was going to end. Again.

"Eh, I can't sleep like anything, really, so while you doze I might just nap or something, depending on how merciful my stupid pan decides to be," he'd either sleep very little or end up smothering poor Dave for sixteen hours when he crashed. There was no in between.

"The rap/lullaby bedtime album doesn't drop until next week, but I can give you an exclusive preview if I think you deserve it."

Dave felt pleasant tension settle back into the pit of his stomach. He twisted around to halfway look at Karkat over his shoulder, and tried not to look _too_ doofy. "I know I keep saying it but I'm still in this weird state of disbelief that any of this happened. Strider's Bizarre Adventure, right here. Getting my cuddle on."

Karkat smiled slightly, "Shit, same, I keep waiting for you to go 'oh, haha, sorry Karkat, you're actually dead, I just couldn't think of any other way to make you realize you were currently in the afterlife.' I need a shock blanket."

The internal keysmashing intensified and escaped in another bug noise; kind of like purring if purring sounded like crickets in a tin can. Karkat shifted slightly so he wasn't buzzing against Dave's back like the weirdest massage chair ever and attempted to keep the volume down.

It absolutely felt like the shitty massage chairs at the mall, the ones that smacked cheap plastic into your spine and sounded like the motor would give out at any moment. Dave grinned at him and turned under Karkat's arm to rest on his back, still pressed fairly close.

"Is that your happy noise? Are you in 'died and went to troll heaven' mode right now?"

"If I was dead I wouldn't make any noise, dumpass," Karkat said, voice coming out weird around the buzzing, "And I've never once experienced an emotion other than disappointment." 

It was totally his happy noise. Karkat shifted, yawning again and attempting to simultaneously snuggle up against Dave and look bored with the entire situation. He failed miserably.

Dave wanted nothing more than for Karkat to rest his head on his shoulder, but he was having doubts about how comfortable that'd be with his horns. They were short and smooth, though. Maybe it wouldn't matter.

He shifted again to tilt himself toward Karkat, curled one arm over him, and ran into the Mallrats Quandary of what to do with his other arm. He opted for pillowing his head on it, but it was gonna get stiff in a matter of minutes.

"I think I know some lowblood peeps who'd disagree with you about the silence of dead shit, or the lack thereof."

"Okay, firstly, ghosts don't count. I think that only worked because of Aradia's freaky psionics anyway. Otherwise there'd be a lot of ghosts on the meteor." Okay, morbid train of thought. Karkat's purring stuttered some while he mulled over that, gnawing on his lip. Damn it, now was not the time for an impromptu rendition of 'the many and varied ways in which Karkat Vantas got everyone killed.'

"Um," he cleared his throat, "And if you're talking about Kanaya, she's also fucking weird. And the zombies she took down don't count either. I would be the most silent corpse ever, just to spite you all."

"I thought your BFFsy got migraines from that shit, too? Unless I'm remembering the anecdote wrong."

Dave lifted his hand to brush Karkat's bangs back, which worked for a scant few seconds. His hair was too thick to do much with. "What if you met a dead you in a dream bubble? Seems bound to happen, doesn't it?"

"Voices of the imminently dead," Karkat shrugged, "He'd hear, like, 'oh, tee hee, I'm gonna eat these wild berries' and shit, not actual dead people."

He scoffed and rolled his eyes, "Dave, have you never been in a memo where I end up shrieking at past and or future me so much that the entire purpose of the memo is derailed? I think you've at least heard the war stories. That is what would happen. Every time."

Dave laughed. "So his brain spoiled him on the death of Foxface?" He'd heard they were releasing a sequel, but SBURB had destroyed his chance to ever read it. Bummer.

Dave settled against Karkat and held him. His right arm was losing its circulation, on and off, but he could deal for a while longer. "I've talked to some Daves, so I guess I'm used to it now. My continued existence is usually the reason they're dead though, so that's awkward."

Karkat leaned forward and butted Dave lightly on the jaw with one of his horns. The purring picked back up slowly, in starts and stops like a car engine that wouldn't turn over until you'd tried at least six times. 

"I try to avoid dead people I knew. Once I met a John and a Jade, though. They had literally no idea who I was. It sucked ass, I'd rather put up with the Carlos guy." He frowned slightly, huffing out a breath through his nose.

"This one time? I had an extended conversation with a dead nakodile." Dave grunted quietly in response to the headbutting but leaned his chin between Karkat's horns afterward. "Couldn't understand a goddamn thing each of us said. She was sweet, though. Liked Go Fish for some reason. Some crocodilian reason, probably."

Karkat snorted, "Probably for a similar reason as to why the Mayor likes cans so much. Maybe she's the mayor of card town." He closed his eyes, voice dropping to more of a mumble. Damn, he was tired all of a sudden. "If I fall asleep on you just, I dunno, pretend to have a conversation with me. Shove me off if I roll over and crush you, though."

"You can sleep on me. Just hold on a sec." Dave propped himself up long enough to stretch his arm and grab two pillows for them. He shoved one under Karkat's neck—rather, where it'd be if he rolled off Dave—and put his arm under the other. Much better.

He settled in against Karkat, whose hair was still slightly damp but not nearly as bad as before. "You comfy?"

"No," Karkat lied, "I just live through an eternal cycle of insomnia and crashing for an entire day after two weeks of no sleep. I could sleep on a boulder if I was tired enough." That was true, but he wasn't necessarily tired enough to crash right then. This was just approximately ten thousand times more comfortable than sleeping on a pile or trying to get used to human beds.

He cracked one eye open after realizing something, "Hey, did you lock the door?" Somehow, the thought of someone walking in on them cuddling was worse than the thought of walking in on them fucking.

Guilt and fear took up residence at the nape of Dave's neck. He couldn't remember, and couldn't quite tell which way the lock was set from this far away. He did his best to calm his own nerves. It'd be fine.

"Nobody's gonna bug us," Dave assured him. "Nobody ever messes with my room or my stuff." On a whim, he kissed the top of Karkat's head.

Gay.

Karkat rolled his eyes, "Whatever, dude, but if people see me sleeping on you it's your solemn duty to remove everyone from this room and never ever tell me what happened."

Oh boy. If someone walked in on him Karkat would probably die of embarrassment, but he was far too comfortable to move or to disengage from Dave so _he_ could move. This was a lot nicer than awkward attempts at getting Gamzee to pet his hair or help him sleep.

Ever since going god tier, he didn't technically _need_ to sleep, but Dave still enjoyed it. Besides, it wasn't like there was a lot of action going on otherwise. At least, not until today. The meteor had been seeing most of its action from people who were not Dave, and relationships that did not involve Dave.

"Don't worry, if we get any Peeping Terezis I'll make sure you're kept totally ignorant." The door was unlocked and the light was on and Dave wished he could magically fix all of these issues. "And I'll make her sign a nondisclosure agreement that'll be totally pointless as soon as everybody realizes we're fucking."

He closed his eyes and listened to the combined sounds of their breathing, and at an indeterminate point in the next few minutes, his idle daydreaming had turned into regular dreaming, which had gotten weirder than usual since playing SBURB. Dreambubbles didn't seem to care whether you were awake or asleep, and just kinda happened anyway.

Dave had no opportunity to reflect on his latest REM cycle, however, as the next thing he was aware of was the Mayor slamming the door open, frantic.

"DAVE! THE BUBBLES VON SALAMANCER MEMORIAL LIBRARY IS MISSING SEVERAL OF ITS BEST TITLES!" He clasped his hands together, pleading. "THEY'RE WEEKS OVERDUE. THE LATE FEES WILL HELP STARVING CANS BECOME FULL AGAIN. I NEED YOUR HELP."

Dave blinked at him. WV blinked back.

"IS THIS A BAD TIME?"

Dave rubbed at his eyes and sat halfway up. "I've always got time for you, bro."

Karkat blearily cracked his eyes open after some of the most restful sleep in his entire life and squinted at the Mayor. Well. Hm. Better than Terezi, at least? Probably? He sat up and rubbed at his eyes.

"This is so a bad time," Karkat complained, clearly not really giving a shit besides the initial reaction of 'aw, damn, no more sleep for me,' "Dave needs his beauty sleep, Mayor. Look at that mug. I don't know how much it'll help, but we can always hope for the best."

Karkat stood up, shuffling around the room in a kind of half-asleep, beetlish way as he gathered all his things (book, shoes, overshirt) and went towards the door. "I'm gonna go write up a memo or something, you and the Mayor look like you've got some important things to do, regarding, uh? My book, I guess."

The Mayor had been pointing insistently at the novel Karkat was holding, until he handed it over to him. Karkat didn't really _get_ Can Town, but the Mayor was fucking awesome and it wasn't like it was causing any problems. "Just no telling anyone what you just saw, Mayor, and we'll be good."

"CARAPACIAN BEAUTY STANDARDS ARE NOT LIKE THOSE OF HUMANS OR TROLLS," WV pointed out. "NEITHER OF YOU ARE ATTRACTIVE."

Dave stifled his laughter.

WV looked quizzically at them both. "WAS THAT IMPOLITE?"

"Sorta, yeah." Dave stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "For that, I think the municipal affairs will have to wait a minute. What happened to our librarian?"

"JOB ABANDONMENT, I'M AFRAID." He shrugged helplessly. "NO CALL. NO SHOW."

Dave sighed. Rose was probably passed out somewhere. He glanced to Karkat and tilted his head slightly to the side. "You don't gotta go right away, do you?"

WV addressed Karkat's concerns at this point, too. "CAN TOWN DOES NOT DISCRIMINATE AGAINST CITY OFFICIALS ON THE BASIS OF THEIR RACE, SPECIES, COLOR, CREED, RELIGION, PLANETARY ORIGIN, SEX, GENDER, AGE, MARITAL STATUS, QUADRANT STATUS, ABILITY, INCUBATION STATUS, OR VETERAN STATUS."

Karkat squinted at the Mayor. Damn, that remark about their looks was unexpected. Smacked down by a carapace. "Uh, no? Figured I kinda overstayed my welcome by passing out on you for an indeterminate amount of time, but if you want I can stay and listen in to city affairs. The memorial lie-berry is pretty important, I like checking out books."

Karkat sat back down on the bed and settled his things in his lap. "Right, of course, I didn't think you'd discriminate against me - wait, I'm a city official?" When had he been appointed? What was his role? The town was fakey fake, but that was kind of flattering. The varied list of things to discriminate against in a group of six mixed-species kids was astounding, though. Marital status? Age? Weren't they all the same age???? Oh, god, was Dave interspecies cullbait? 

Okay, no. That was ridiculous. He was being ridiculous. Karkat internally rolled his eyes at himself and raised his eyebrows, "So with no lie-berrian or whatever, what are you going to do to round up the books? And how exactly are you planning on collecting late fees." How did you pronounce library, and more importantly, how did currency even work in Can Town, did they have a barter system or something?

"By living on the meteor a year you're already a naturalized Can Town citizen," Dave explained. "We've been meaning to have you pick a career path on city council, but we can postpone this meeting until later."

"IT CAN WAIT A FEW HOURS, BUT THIS IS IMPORTANT. THE LIBRARY IS A CORNERSTONE OF EDUCATION FOR CAN TOWN AND ITS NOBLE CITIZENS." WV took the book from Karkat and clutched it to his chest. "WE ACCEPT LATE FEES IN CAEGARS, DOLLARS, OR BOONBUCKS. ALL CURRENCY WILL BE CONVERTED TO POSTAGE."

"If I pay Karkat's fine, can he have his book back? We were doing a critical reading of it." Dave gave the Mayor and imploring look. "I can wire like, a goddamn truckload of boondollars into your coffers."

WV seemed displeased. "CAN TOWN IS NOT A CHARITY, DAVE. DOING THAT WOULD ONLY CAUSE RAMPANT INFLATION AND WIDESPREAD CORRUPTION. KEEP YOUR DIRTY LOHACSE FUNDS OUT OF POLITICS." Nevertheless, he gave the book back to Karkat. "SEND ME JUST THE AMOUNT OF THE FEE."

Karkat raised his eyebrows, snorting, "I cannot believe you just tried to bribe the mayor for a book. You're fucking ridiculous, the late fee would be a lot less, and I've got enough boondollars to deal with it myself." He had a few spare caegars and beetles, too, but those were kept around mostly for sentimental value.

He took the book back from the mayor, and set it beside himself, remembering suddenly that pants were a thing that existed and that he should probably put his on some time in the near future. Good thing the mayor had absolutely no interest in Karkat's nethers, or this would've been fucking embarrassing. As it was, Karkat turned a little pink around the ears when he pulled his pants on anyway.

"Well, I'm not going to do anything stupid, so take that in note when you pick my 'career path.' You better not assign me as a grocer or I'm gonna move promptly out of Can Town with nary a notice of my leaving. One day, my little can hive will be gone and what will you do then? Who will bag your groceries for all the can citizens?"

"CAN TOWN OPERATES COMMUNITY GARDENS." The Mayor boggled at Karkat. Nothing he was saying had made any sense. "I DON'T ASSIGN YOUR POSITION. THE COUNCIL VOTES ON IT."

Dave's attention was directed towards Karkat's ass. He snorted. "I thought you should be in sanitation, since you're taking out everybody's emotional trash anyway."

WV hung around for a minute longer before he realized he'd become an unwitting third wheel. "DAVE, PLEASE JOIN US FOR A QUARTERLY BUDGET LUNCHEON. I'LL COME GET YOU WHEN THE FOOD'S MICROWAVED."

"Yeah. I'll see you later, and I'll try to bring Rose." He waved as the Mayor headed out the door, then looked to Karkat. "He used to say that he 'nuked' things, until we ran out of uranium."

"Ha ha," Karkat said dryly, "Where do you come up with all of these jokes? You better be a comedian. Can. Canmedian? Tell stupid jokes for a living, get tomatoes launched at your face. Your dream job." 

Karkat shrugged at the mention of nuking, "He's an alien, dude, that's about the same's me calling a thermal hull a thermal hull and you calling it a fridge. That's how cultural differences work, you flaming sack of garbage." 

He crossed his legs and leaned back on his elbows, "So, what exactly goes on in a quarterly budget luncheon? How does Can Town even have a budget? I mean, not that it isn't impressive and all - there's a lot of cans, it took a lot of wasted time, er, work - but it's not like you're going to be in debted to anyone."

"Humans call it nuking, too, but in most cases it doesn't involve weapons-grade anything." Jade's cookalizer was a notable exception.

Dave scooted over to rest his head on Karkat's thigh. That, and the book, and the hair petting, had gotten this shameglobe rolling.

"The budget exists mostly to replace that chalk that Terezi and the Mayor consume. Doesn't take much to fund it, really. We got plenty of grist."

Karkat rolled his eyes and petted at Dave's hair again, "The fact that they both eat chalk and have failed to have some sort of horrible intestinal disease continues to astound me. It's insane, just the sheer amount that they consume. There's no way it's got any nutritional value."

He made a contented noise in the back of his throat. Welp, if this was what he'd have to look forward to for the other two years on the meteor, it wouldn't be so bad.

"That counts as pica, right?" Dave was still dragging from waking up before he'd meant to. He closed his eyes, crossed his arms over his chest, and turned his head in Karkat's lap to tilt towards his stomach. "Chalk totally has no nutritional value."

When he was younger, Dave had never been able to have many friends over to his apartment; their parents tended to balk when they saw how many sharp objects and questionable puppets were strewn about. On the rare occasions they had, however, he'd experienced a moment like this: the five minutes to potentially half an hour during which he and his friend had stalled, waited for their guardians to talk, tried to extend the hangout session for even just the slightest bit longer. Inevitably they'd part ways. That was the nature of not being roommates with your friends from grade school.

He felt this way now, in trying to draw out the quiet, private time he had with Karkat. Plus he was tired as fuck.

Karkat snorted, "At least my choice in snack food contains more than chalk and colored dye." He could feel Dave's breathing through the thin fabric of his undershirt. Weird. It kind of tickled, actually.

Karkat was reveling in the company, even if they weren't constantly snuggling or getting up in each other's space. It was nice to just be there, and it was new to trolls as a whole to have the ability to be so close to people so often. Plus, it looked like Dave could totally sleep like this - at least he seemed tired.

"Dude, you gonna fall asleep? If you are I am _so_ glad I have a book, but give me some warning if you have a drool problem. I don't need that on me."

"Pfft. What other kind of dye is there? Colorless dye misses the point of dye."

He paused, frowned, then reached toward the bookshelf next to his bed to grab his phone. Thank god for the internet's continued functionality. The game mechanics recognized its necessity. "Huh. There are totally colorless dyes."

"Not gonna fall asleep yet. Probably." He lay down on his back and looked up at Karkat. "You didn't have a problem with my saliva earlier, hypocrite."

Karkat raised his eyebrows and smiled smugly at Dave, "Hah. Therefore, my point totally still stands."

His smirk faded, replaced with an indignant scowl at Dave's retort. "That was different. I don't want my lap soaked while I'm trying to read. What, is that your way of saying 'yes, Karkat, I'm totally gonna drool on your crotch but hey, you liked it last time when we were pailing and this is totally equatable to that.'"

"Yeah. Prepare for a flood of biblical proportions." He gestured widely in a movement vaguely resembling a wave. "Like you've never seen. You thought filling a bucket was impressive? This is gonna be a goddamn Olympic swimming pool of spit."

Karkat grimaced and flicked Dave's forehead, "I have shacked up with the most disgusting human in all of paradox space, haven't I? I should've been given a warning. You get drool on me and I'm rubbing it in your hair."

Dave stuck his tongue out at him. "Ain't gonna drool on you, bro. Promise."

He wondered what other books had gone missing from the library. Was Rose hoarding a lot of crap that usually lived in the common area? He'd tried to keep up with her and be supportive through her drinking (for her sake, his own, _and_ Kanaya's), but maybe he hadn't done enough.

Karkat rolled his eyes, "Alright, I'm gonna hold you to your word, motherfucker."

He shifted some so that he was leaning more against the wall instead of putting all his weight up on his elbow and closed his eyes. Karkat probably wouldn't get to sleep any time soon, but hey, there wasn't any harm in trying. Or resting. Constant leaderly vigilance wasn't always required; people could take care of themselves.

Dave was groggier than he'd let on; even though Karkat's lap wasn't nearly as comfortable as a pillow, Dave couldn't bring himself to move. He shifted a bit and exhaled slowly through his nose.

"So what all happens in the rest of the book?" he asked.

"Porn, mostly," Karkat said, shrugging, "Lots and lots of gratuitous pile scenes and really flowery descriptions of how soft and smooth everyone's skin is. There's a really steamy blackrom scene, too, but it's kind of creepy with the power imbalance. And if you don't like bloodplay it's not exactly the smut for you."

Dave wrinkled his nose. "Yeah, that's... I mean, if everyone's having fun, do your thing, I guess." He opened his eyes and looked up. "Which... I have no idea if that's your thing."

"Bloodplay or pile scenes?" Karkat said, raising his eyebrows, "if you're thinking the blood thing, fuck no. I don't need people playing with my mutated swill. Keep that in my skin sack where no one else can see it."

"Yeahhh. I've seen enough of mine and/or other Dead Daves' to last..." He hesitated. "Was gonna say a lifetime, but I have no idea what that winds up being for god tier players."

Which brought them to a subject that was awkward enough with the hemospectrum, made additionally uncomfortable with Karkat's aforementioned mutated blood, and was further compounded by the unsettling fact that Dave had ascended and Karkat had not.

Well then.

"Uh, so, any idea what you want to be in charge of for Can Town?"

"An eternity, probably," Karkat said, shrugging. He'd already come to terms with the fact of his mortality. He hadn't expected to live as long as he had already, anyway, so really it was a surprise to get...well. However long he'd have. Red blood didn't exactly come with a lifespan manual.

It still kind of sucked to think about. Maybe if they beat the game and became gods it wouldn't be a problem. Who knew.

"Huh? Oh- hm. I can manage the library if Rose is busy, that sounds vaguely less terrible than pretty much any other job."

"Maybe you can convince everybody to stop leaving all the shit they're reading scattered around the common room." Dave reached for Karkat's hand; if he kept the movement totally nonchalant, it wouldn't be a big deal. Right? Right. Besides, they'd already decided they were kind of probably dating. "It's not too much to ask that people put their crap back on a shelf, is it?"

This was a tall order coming from a guy who'd trashed his own 'respite block', but Dave was, naturally, aware of this irony.

"Oh, yes, everyone will listen to me," Karkat snorted, rolling his eyes, "You say that like people won't continue to leave books on the floor, leaving me to suffer massive hemorrhaging of the thinkpan due to stress and frustration. Same thing that happens every time I have an order."

Karkat noticed what Dave was doing and moved his own hand to cover what distance Dave hadn't already. If he hadn't actually been meaning to hold hands, well. Then it was an accident on Karkat's side too.

"It's one less aspect of city goings-on that I have to deal with, anyway." He squeezed at Karkat's hand and felt pretty lame doing so, but it was _comforting_ so maybe he needed to stop being so self-deprecating. It was okay to relax, wasn't it? "Besides, half of the library was donated by you, and I know you don't wanna see that shit scattered around."

"Well, of course not, but I'm not going to trail after everyone picking up their shit like some kind of cluckbeast lusus." Karkat squeezed Dave's hand back, warmth settling low in the pit of his stomach. Neither were big on blatant shows of affection, so that was a pretty big deal.

Dave acknowledged him with a vaguely positive nonverbal sound. He lay quietly for a while, and started edging towards heavy eyelids and the motherfucking siren song of sleep. After a moment that felt it'd gone on too long, but maybe was just a few seconds, he began to nod off and startled himself back awake.

"Whoa, fuck." Dave forced himself to sit up. "I can't sleep through the Can Town meeting, dude. It's my civic duty."

Karkat snorted, "Alright, dude. If you're gonna be at a meeting I'll be in my block; I'd rather not lurk around in yours and feel like a fucking creeper." It felt way too much like intruding in Dave's space if the aforementioned human wasn't in there with him. "Make sure you vouch for my position as librarian, I am so not fucking sweeping your floors."

"Hey, the Mayor is prepared to give really good benefits to the sanitation department." Dave stretched, then got up from the bed to stand beside it. "That's partially because nobody wants to do it, partially because of the risks of inhaling chalk dust, and most of all because of the Faygo stains on the floors."

Karkat laughed softly, standing up as well. "You know, we could always do a rotation for cleaning duty. And I could draw a schedule for it, make it easy for everyone to know when it was their turn, so on and so forth." Schedules were Karkat's _thing_ , dammit, and he never got a chance to use his - admittedly obscure - skill.

"If you can get everyone to _stick_ to that schedule, it'll be a goddamn miracle." He wrinkled his nose. "And not the juggalo kind."

Dave stood in front of him, hesitant to go in for yet another hug. He was probably being too clingy. Instead, he picked out fresh clothes (or what he presumed to be clean) and changed out of his Muppet Babies pajamas into something far more suitable for a Can Town meeting. There wasn't much of a dress code, but even Dave had a tough time feeling professional while decked out in attire that featured Kermit the Frog.

"So maybe we can meet back up tonight and watch Thresh Prince, if you like?"

"If your squishy human pan can handle it," Karkat replied with a teasing scoff, which was probably code for 'hell yes, my boner for troll Will Smith will be fueled yet again.' He'd already dressed in all the clothes that weren't fucking gross, so there wasn't much for him to do except stand around awkwardly while Dave got dressed and ready for Serious Business down in can town.

"All right then." Dave pulled his jeans up and tucked his boxers down the pant legs. He glanced at Karkat and smiled at him. He was doing that a lot now, damn. "I'm gonna keep score, though. Gonna see who's the superior actor, troll or human Will Smith."

"You're going to be so upset when my Will Smith wins by a landslide," Karkat rolled his eyes, "Ooh, zero to sixty thousand, Alternia wins again! Maybe we should just call of the whole thing, to spare you your dignity and all that. The collective human ego can't take it, Dave."

"Pffff. Whatever, man. You're on." Dave laced up his shoes, then stood up. He was finally presentable. "Anyway, the Can Town thing shouldn't take too long. I'll be back in like, two shakes of Aradia's lusus."

Dave didn't really want to leave, but if he stuck around much longer, he'd fall back asleep and spend the rest of the day groggy as shit. Besides, the quarterly luncheons usually had decent snacks. (He'd expressed concern over leadership consuming the innards of Can Town citizens, but the Mayor had assured him the cans themselves didn't mind, and, in fact, this was their higher calling. Dave remained unconvinced, but who could say no to Chef Boyardee?)

"Read your book and I'll bring you back some grub. Food. Yeah." He stepped halfway out of the door, held up his hands in a heart shape, and absconded. 

If someone noticed Dave grinning to himself while he walked, well. Fuck 'em, right?


	2. The Adventures of Suave Man & Shout Guy 2: Australian Igloo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _dave was like “wow dang karkat we are gay as hell”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> cw in this chapter for Dave and Karkat discussing how rape jokes are gross and unnecessary
> 
> extra mega thanks to my coauthor for being excellent all the time, and to maim for continuing to be a fantastic source of support, and to phoe for helping us out while we shared sneak peaks
> 
> if there are typos or formatting mistakes they're my fault; please let me know so I can fix them!
> 
> HAPPY CANON DAVEKAT, EVERYONE xoxo
> 
> —elendraug

There was never much to do on the meteor. Dave had convinced the... whatever the troll machine was, to spit out something approximating coffee, but by the time he'd finished dispensing it, some internal mechanism decided it was time to give up the ghost. He'd hoped to get two mugs' worth and bring one for Karkat, too, but they'd have to share.

Come to think of it, he wasn't even sure if Karkat drank coffee.

He left the kitchen before anyone could complain about his complete dismissal of the mechanical problems he'd caused, and headed down the hallway to Karkat's bedroom. It'd been a week since they'd last hung out for an extended amount of time in there, and as much as Dave enjoyed the company of his remaining friends, he could do with a little less _constant_ group interaction. Everybody needed alone time. Or alone with Karkat time. Splitting hairs at that point.

The door was ajar. He held the mug steady with one hand and pushed the door open with the other.

"Dude, you curating your private collection in here?"

Karkat glanced up from where he was sorting his posters (by actor, and then alphabetical) for the nth fucking time at Dave's voice. Thank god, he was going to go batshit if he had to sit on his ass trying to find something to do without bugging everyone else for attention. Organizing wasn't a particularly thrilling activity by most people's standards anyway, and after a while there's really only _so_ clean you can make something. He was starting to think he'd maybe reached that threshold.

“What? I mean, I guess. There's just fuckall else to do besides lie on the ground at your feet and whine about how bored I am. Which probably wouldn't help said boredom much. This is at least productive—or, it was two hours ago. At this point I'm essentially just preening about how neat everything is.”

He moved to sit on the couch, patting the seat beside him. “Plant your ass and give me some of whatever's in the cup. I'm assuming it's for me and you both, unless you're a hilariously selfish asshole and or you already drank yours.” It was probably wiggler behavior to make grabby hands, but hey. Cleaning is thirsty work.

Dave sat down beside Karkat, careful to brace the mug so it wouldn't spill. Hot coffee in somebody's lap was the last thing anyone needed. "This is our final cup of coffee for a while." He took a sip from it, mildly scalded his tongue, and wished he'd waited another minute or two. His time on the meteor had yet to teach him patience. "I... _might_ have broken the machine. Just throwing that out there. Like you'll throw yourself at my feet." 

He smirked and handed the mug to Karkat, offering its handle to him.

“You should throw yourself at _my_ feet and beg for mercy, since you broke the machine and all,” Karkat replied, taking the mug and blowing on it a little before sipping it. He wasn't a huge fan of coffee or anything, but it had caffeine and was better than water, so.

He swallowed and turned to look at Dave. “Did you have a particular reason for coming here and bringing me offerings, or did you just want to bask in my glory? Not that I mind basking, but I don't want to fuck up any plans you might hypothetically have.” 

Dave laughed. "Are we back to the whole Blood Knight Temple, AKA your crotch, thing?" Maybe it was too soon for innuendo, but as far as Dave was concerned, it was always a good time for innuendo.

Well. With Karkat, at least.

Karkat spluttered. “Oh my god, things I say when I'm turned on should be disregarded as bullshit, like, ninety-nine percent of the time. That one included. That was probably... the single worst attempt at dirty talk in the history of paradox space. No, I don't mean bask in my crotch. Get your head out of the gutter, you sicko.”

There was no spite behind the remark, really, and he elbowed Dave lightly in the side to make sure that the whole 'teasing' thing was clear. Though now he was thinking about the last time they'd actually done stuff like that. Bleh. Maybe Karkat was the one who needed to get his head out of the gutter.

"Basking in your crotch doesn't sound like a bad way to spend an afternoon, if you ask me." Dave edged away from Karkat's elbow, less to avoid the nudging and more to avoid potential sloshing from the mug. "But nah, don't got any plans. I'm bored, but when aren't we bored?"

Karkat snorted in agreement. “Well, there's only so much you can do with six other people on a rock hurtling through space. I just wanted to know if you were planning on bribing me with shitty replicated coffee so we could, like, strife or something. I don't claim to understand the mysteries of how your bizarre alien thinkpan works. If I did, I'd say it sure sounded like you were planning on actually planting your face in my junk.”

Aaaand that train of thought, however comical it might be, needed to stop right now. He cleared his throat and gestured to the television in front of them. “Did you want to maybe watch something? I think our bet on whether Thresh Prince or Fresh Prince is better still needs to be settled and now seems like a perfect time.”

"I think just watching this show might wind up ending in strife." Dave shifted himself up to glance back over the couch, look at the shelf, and see if he could spot the Thresh Prince DVDs. After a moment of no luck, he realized that he was looking for the bright 90s colors of his own set, and that the spines from the Alternian show were probably completely different.

He turned back around to look at Karkat. "We still gotta agree on what the terms of the bet are."

“Hm, well, it needs to be properly repulsive, so....” Karkat drummed his fingers on the arm of the couch and made a thoughtful noise. Sure, it had to be repulsive, but it couldn't be cruel and it'd be awesome if it benefited Karkat in some way in the event he won. Which, really, shouldn't be an issue. He had the acting prowess of Troll Will Smith on his side, after all.

After he set the coffee-slash-mystery sludge down on the little wooden end table next to the couch, Karkat stood up and walked behind them to the shelf to grab the DVDs (black and grey with a colored logo). “I think,” he walked around in front of the TV and held up the tapes with a flourish, “When you lose, because you will, you clean the showers. That shit is fucking rank, despite my best efforts to keep it otherwise.”

That would be gross, yeah. It also had to be done. Dave wondered how unethical it would be to sacrifice a time loop to another Dave cleaning the shower stall, but then felt guilty for even thinking it. Pretty fucking unethical.

"Who says it's gotta be repulsive?" Dave toed off his shoes and kicked them halfway between the couch and the TV. "What twisted impulse nestled itself into your alien organs to make you inflict nasty shit upon me?"

“It's not a proper wager if it's something you want to lose at,” Karkat replied, turning away momentarily to fiddle with the DVD player. It always took a ridiculous amount of time to set up.

“It's not like you're really obligated to do anything I say, anyway. I'll just shit in your ablutionblock.” He shrugged as he turned back around, remote in hand. “Also, you should totally lie down so I can, like, lie in front of you to watch. I don't have a footstool to put my feet up on and I'm not sitting straight up and down for an entire movie marathon, fuck that.” Okay, so that wasn't a totally transparent excuse to spoon Dave but... it was a totally transparent excuse to spoon Dave.

"You're going to shit in my bathroom, or you're going to _shit_ in my _bathroom_?" Dave hoped that Karkat understood the purpose of the clarification. The distinction was a fucking important one. “Like, on the floor?”

He grabbed a few pillows and lay down on the couch, cushioned next to the arm, with his elbow on the arm for balance. It was comfortable enough. He could stay this way for a while, even if not for an entire disc's worth of episodes.

The bonus of pointing himself in this direction was that the remaining coffee was within reach. Hell yes.

“I'm not an animal. I don't shit on the floor, jeez.” Karkat grumbled indignantly as he situated himself in front of Dave. “I'll shit on _you,_ see if I don't. Now shut up so you can witness the sheer cinematic masterpiece that is Thresh Prince.”

He hit play and shuffled back just a little on the couch to kind of...nudge Dave. Wasn't it protocol for the big spoon to put their arm around their boyfriend/matesprit/date pal thing when watching movies? Karkat sure thought it was, but he wasn't going to straight up fucking ask for snuggles. He was subtle. Sort of, at least. Mostly subtle.

"If that's what you're into, man." Dave shrugged. "Not gonna kink shame you, but I can't say I'm into that shit." Literally.

Karkat was not subtle, but Dave _did_ shut up. He settled in behind Karkat and shifted his position to spoon him correctly, as far as any sort of cuddling could be more or less 'correct'. This got him thinking about incorrect methods of cuddling, and he grinned to himself for two reasons as he put his arm around Karkat's chest.

“What does sex have to do with it? I'll shit on you out of spite, plain and simple.” Karkat had just broken his own no-talking rule, but he couldn't let Dave get away with that kind of slander without saying anything.

Dave had taken the hint, though, which was definitely nice, and Karkat managed to focus on the TV for a few minutes before his thoughts started wandering. Troll Will Smith was an actor of godlike proportions and all, yeah, but he'd seen this episode so damn many times he could probably recite it line for line. Not to mention all the fucking innuendos Dave had been spewing nonstop since he showed up. It was practically an invitation for wandering thoughts, okay. It wasn't like he had to act on them.

"Spite-shitting, damn. That's fuckin' disrespectful."

Dave remembered the events of this episode, vaguely, from watching it in his own childhood. Even though the cast was with troll actors, a lot of the key points matched up. After a few more minutes, he reached over the arm of the couch to grab the coffee mug. It was cooling off, but as the last cup of coffee the meteor would see for a while (or at least until somebody else kicked the machine), it was his duty to savor it.

He took a sip, and then let the mug rest on top of Karkat's head. “If it’s not sexual, is it pale shit? Auspistishitting?”

Karkat scowled, both at being used as a coffee table and at the quadrantshit remark. “It's Dave is an obnoxious turdboat shitting, actually. It's a common practice back on Alternia, reserved for only the most annoying. Some would consider it an honor.”

Well, at least all the shit talk kept him from thinking about more embarrassing things. Too bad he couldn't reach up to swat Dave without risking pouring lukewarm coffee all over his face, though. “Get the damn cup off my head or I really will shit on you, oh my god. I cannot believe this is what I've been subjected to.”

"This is the shittiest conversation I've had in a while." Dave tilted the mug back, drained it, and set it on the end table. "Weird that they named the festivities after me. I didn't think 'Dave' was a common name on Alternia."

With his hand free once more, he had no choice but to wrap his arm around Karkat again. Life was suffering.

Karkat waved a hand vaguely, “I think it was more like you're such a shithead you were simply fated to inherit the same name as the traditional practice. Paradox Space couldn't stop itself from making such an easy transuniversal gibe.”

Aha, yes. Karkat shifted his arm so his hand was resting lightly over Dave's, partially so he couldn't escape and put the mug on his head again, and partially because cuddling was pretty much nice all the time. Hell yeah. 

"For your information, Karkat, my name means _beloved_. That's what the internet told me, anyway."

He flexed his fingers upward to touch Karkat's hand. This was cozy. If he got much cozier, he'd sink too far down on the couch and wouldn't be able to see the screen anymore. Past that, he'd fall asleep, and then it wouldn't matter.

"As in, beloved shitlord. That's why I'm so good at BSing you."

“Yeah, and you're also full of shit.” Karkat rolled his eyes and laughed a little under his breath. “And so is the internet. Your name means 'blight,' as in blight of my life. Clearly.”

He glanced up, craning his neck at the awkward angle, “You can't BS me any better than you can BS anyone else, you fucking dingus. Blighted Shitlord, though, I guess works about the same way. It means you're cursed to be a turd the rest of your life. Tragic.”

"I was born a turd, and I'll die a turd. Goddamn if I won't be a polished one, though." Dave leaned in to kiss the side of Karkat's forehead, and wound up kissing his bangs more than his skin. "I just can't believe that BabyNameNetwork.com lied to me."

Karkat snorted. “Well, at least you don't have any qualms about admitting your true fecal nature. And, anyway, I'm not sure how BabyNameNetwork.com would even know the real meaning of 'Dave,' unless you're claiming that the website is somehow fucking omniscient.”

He smiled a little when Dave kissed his head. “You're going to cover my hair in slobber and then it'll get all crunchy and nasty, you nasty fuck. This is cruel and unusual punishment!”

"I trusted that site, dude. Someone had to write it. Who'd get on the internet and just make stuff up?" He kissed the top of Karkat's head. "And who's drooling on your hair? Does this happen so often that it's a serious concern of yours?"

“Oh, yeah, because the internet is entirely reliable, all the time, always. How could I forget?” Karkat rolled over as best he could with the limited couch space and narrowed his eyes at Dave, though he didn't look or sound half as stern as he'd like. “Okay, no, but knowing you I'm going to have hair spiked up entirely with spit by the end of the episode.”

Dave sat up just enough to free the arm that'd been supporting his weight. He ran his fingers up through Karkat's hair to give him a faux-hawk for a few seconds, and smirked. "I dunno. I think you look good rocking the Tavros look."

Karkat ran a hand through his hair until it was back to its usual state of 'disheveled.' “I think you're full of it. And I think _you_ think you're full of it.” He paused a moment, and then smirked back at Dave. “Besides, you'd probably think I looked good even if I did something, like, shave all my hair off and got some weird tattoo to replace the follicles.”

Dave laughed. "What, like fucking Aang? Karkat: The Last..." He fished for a word. "Uh, Pailbender?"

Karkat looked at Dave quizzically. “The what? Okay, firstly, why am I bending pails? And secondly, what the absolute dickshitting fuck does my tattooing my head have to do with the pailbending?”

He rolled back over. “Sometimes I am convinced you're making up weird cultural references so you can pretend to be offended that Alternia didn't have it, or didn't have it in a way that was recognizably the same as the lame human version. There's no way pailbending was ever a thing.”

"I _did_ make it up, but it was a joke that obviously required cultural context you weren't exposed to. I'm not trying to give you shit."

Dave lay down on the couch fully, his head raised slightly by throw pillows, and curled his arm over Karkat's chest again. He took a deep breath, and then exhaled slowly next to Karkat's hair.

"I don't have to give you shit anymore. You got me. I'm the biggest shit you'll ever need to take."

“You are a shit, but I mean, I'm kind of a shit too. And as such, I can tolerate your shittiness. I'm used to it.” Karkat closed his eyes and let out a happy sigh under his breath. This was nice, even though he wasn't really paying much attention to the show anymore.

"Everything about our relationship is shitty. Praise be to god." He found Karkat's hand and held it. "Even if god might be a pissy dude in suspenders, or a fish queen, or a dog... guy, or... whatever. Cancer frog? Unspeakably horrid octopus buddies? I lost track."

Karkat shrugged, “Let's go with 'god is an asshole,' since it seems to work pretty well all around for most of those categories. A nice, inclusive phrase for all the possible dickhead deities there may or may not be lurking around the multiverse.”

He squeezed Dave's hand lightly, grabbing the remote with his free hand to fiddle with it. “I think this episode is probably almost over, so did you want to alternate with some human shit before we go on to the next episode? It might be easier to compare that way.” Not to mention that Karkat was actually pretty curious about the similarities between the original and the human version.

Dave rubbed the pad of his thumb over the side of Karkat's knuckle. It was tiny gestures like this that both made him giddy but also feel self-conscious. Showing affection was always a little embarrassing, he guessed.

"Yeah, we can watch some of the Fresh instead of the Thresh. I don't wanna get up, though."

“Well, I guess I don't want you trying to climb over me and inevitably elbowing me in all the places where it would hurt the most, so I _suppose_ I can do it.” Karkat sighed deeply and made a show of getting up, walking around to the shelf, and grabbing the tapes. “This shows how magnanimous and generous I am, letting you sit on your ass while I do all this manual labor.”

Once everything was set up, he climbed back onto the couch and settled down against Dave. Fresh Prince obviously wouldn't be as good as Thresh, but hey, it'd be interesting to see how such a relatively softhearted culture dealt with the themes in the episode he was picking. There were bound to be a shitload of differences.

"You're the truest bro a bro could ask for." Dave patted Karkat's upper arm. "I'm grateful for your sacrifice."

The DVD menu came up with a slideshow of various clips of the cast dancing, Will Smith delivering the majority of the theme song, an _inspired_ choice of font, and a garish smattering of bright 90's colors scribbled in the background. It was tough not to smile. "This is my fucking childhood right here."

Karkat shushed Dave and selected the play button, watching the show start up with a breakfast scene that was jarringly sunny. He always forgot that humans ate breakfast in the morning, what the fuck was even up with that. It logically made sense, because that was when they woke up, but goddamn. It would never stop being weird.

“Huh, she couldn't cook for shit in my version, either,” he commented absently as the show started playing. It was a pretty predictable similarity, but hey, it was probably still worth noting. Probably.

"Some things never change, and sitcom tropes are a universal constant."

Dave couldn't think of a time in his life when he'd been more comfortable than this. The only thing he could do without was being half-hard while watching Will Smith chew on what was apparently a contact lens. Weird. Maybe a good joke for SBAHJ, though. He'd keep that in mind for later; Hella Jeff was definitely the sort of dude to have a fetish for something as bizarre and surreal as the consumption of optical accessories.

The theme song began, and Dave tried to just focus on that. He lifted his cape up to drape it over himself and Karkat, and curled a bit closer. "I used to watch this every fucking day. I forgot how much I missed it."

“I guess Fresh Prince was so good it had to be preserved in both universes,” Karkat laughed a little under his breath, “I still watch it when there's fuckall else to do. The troll version, I mean.” He was going to say more while the joke about poisoned nuns went on, but he was a little distracted. When Dave had shifted closer, Karkat felt what was either a very fucking suspicious wrinkle in the god tier pajamas or Dave's boner. Probably a boner, since pajama wrinkles aren't generally _that_ suspicious.

Karkat considered saying something, but it wasn't like Dave was grabbing his ass or making more innuendos, so.... It was probably nothing. Maybe he just really liked eggs. 

"I want you to know, just for the record? The color scheme within this show's design, the wardrobe, the credits, all that shit inspired the palette I use for my comic."

He'd seen this particular episode more than most. It was a classic. Dave kept his arm loose but protective over Karkat's chest, and let his eyes close. He was content to just listen to the dialogue for a while.

"So when I'm famous, in case you're ever called upon to speak about this, you'll be qualified to say, yeah, I was there. I heard it first."

Karkat smiled. "Oh, it all makes sense now. Finally, I see where your particular brand of 'eyesearing colorvomit' came into being. This is really enlightening. I'll be sure to tell the interviewers all about this when they eagerly ask me for the juicy details of our years on a damn rock."

The theme wrapped up, leaving Karkat to absorb this new wave of Technicolor 90's enlightenment. The _song_ was essentially the same as Karkat's version, but the colors could only be described as 'holy fucking shit.' "Oh my god, that font is the ugliest damn thing I've ever seen."

"That font is a goddamn masterpiece of typography. You show some respect."

The episode got underway. Dave almost commented about the show's writing error—that Clarence Thomas had not, in fact, been to Princeton—but quickly realized that Karkat wouldn't have any context for the remark. There had been some one-off jokes in Thresh Prince that Dave had assumed were political or maybe referred to celebrities, but the punchlines weren't usually good enough to merit taking the time to explain them.

He felt more confident spooning Karkat now that his dick had calmed down. Dave shifted to press his chest flush with Karkat's back.

"I still gotta think of something to stick you with when human Will Smith inevitably wins out."

“Well, hey, someone's still gotta clean the showers if I don't win, so, you know. That should count as your reward and simultaneously my punishment. That bathroom is fucking disgusting, you don't even understand.” It was pretty unlikely Dave would actually go with that, but hey, Karkat might as well give it a try.

Aaaaaand the phantom boner was gone as fast as it had came, apparently. It really must've been the eggs.

Karkat spent a little while listening to the show, but the human lingo kept jarring him out of enjoying it. “Toilet still sounds like...man, I don't even know, like highblood talk. It makes sense for the Bankses, I guess, but on a show it's still really goddamn weird. 'The guy with his head in the load gaper' has a way better ring to it, dude, even you have to admit that.”

“Load gaper is hella entertaining, I _will_ give you that.”

Dave paused in thought. The Bankses were obviously a traditional nuclear family, plus Will. In the sparse episodes of Thresh Prince he’d seen, he hadn’t been able to determine what the situation was with the cast of characters.

“So, wait. What’s the deal with Troll Will and his buddies? They’re all in the same… what was it, flaysquad? Even… uhhhh, Not-Uncle Phil?”

Karkat shrugged, “Phil was the mentor, basically? And everyone kind of acts very similar to a family since they've been working together for so long, except Will for the first couple of episodes, 'cause he's new. Or, assuming it's an accurate representation of how your weird fucking families actually work, they act like one.” He swatted Dave's hand lightly. “Were you even paying attention? Or was it just so confusing you got lost in a wave of xeno?”

He still wasn't clear about how human families were even supposed to work. Clearly, Carlton and Will still antagonized each other even with the power of 'family' applied, so what was even the point? It was a mystery.

Dave pressed his forehead against the back of Karkat's neck, and sighed into Karkat's sweater. "I was paying attention, yo. I'm just trying to make sure I've got a full comprehension of what its Alternian audience experienced, so I can prove beyond a shadow of a fuckin' doubt that Fresh beats Thresh."

Despite the fighting words, Dave kissed Karkat's shoulder through the knit fabric. ...which was dumb or sappy, probably, but he was tired of pretending that he was too cool to give a shit about anybody.

Karkat jumped a little at Dave's breath tickling the back of his neck, and then immediately pretended he hadn't. “Stop it, you weirdo,” he swatted at Dave until he kissed Karkat's shoulder, at which point he was ready to change his tune, “—Okay, that's acceptable, just no emo sighing on me. It feels weird.”

He couldn't really return the kiss without some fucking CouchYoga™, so he settled for scooting back a little to snuggle more closely and squeezing Dave's hand. “Okay, then, if full comprehension is your goal, it's only fair to level the playing field some. I'm taking mental notes, be prepared to write me a thesis explaining how human culture plays into Fresh Prince.”

"That wasn't an emo sigh, you tool. That was me being comfortable and happy and shit."

One of these days he'd get over the impulse to be dismissive of his own emotional state. For now, he was still waiting for Karkat to laugh at him, and wanted to preemptively wince every time he let his guard down. It didn't even make _sense_ , because he knew Karkat wasn't going to be a jackass—at least, not quite like that, not when the guy was all for 'glubbing' about 'eelings' or fucking whatever. If Karkat had never used fish puns, Dave felt like it was a good opportunity to start.

Plus, Karkat was holding his hand. Motherfuckin' aww.

"The biggest theme in Fresh is probably class warfare, I guess? Kinda hemospectrum-y. I dunno."

Karkat rolled his eyes, although he was secretly very pleased that Dave had elaborated on that. He had his own problems with opening up and being affectionate, and it was kind of nice that both of them were working on it.

“I'm not a tool, you're a tool. You're like, a fucking... multitool, you've probably got a shitload of redundant and or useless little doodads that stick out of you, because otherwise the sheer level of what a tool you are would be incomprehensible and quite frankly improbable. Sporks, screwdrivers, three different can openers, the works.”

The comparison to the hemospectrum did help explain things a little. Karkat nodded in understanding, focusing back on the show where Will was asking about handshakes that required you be facing someone's ass, albeit with less colorful language.

"How many types of can openers do you own?" Dave asked. "Are troll food products that tricky, that it takes multiple steps or something?"

“No, I was just trying to emphasize what a tool you are,” Karkat replied. “Like, only the tooliest of tools would have three can openers within its depths, you know? It's possible my metaphor got a little fucking convoluted there, though.”

"Nah. I'm a tool like tooled leather. I look all intricate and delicate, then you realize that somebody's mass-produced a bunch of me and I'm being sold on Etsy for a 1000% markup."

“I have no fucking idea what any of that means, dude, besides like maybe the part about the leather. Are you even speaking English right now? Who knows, it's a mystery for the ages. Thousands of years from now the consorts will still be pondering what the fuck tooled leather is.” Karkat paused and laughed after a moment.

“Besides, you're anything but delicate. You fucking flipped me over your head, dude. Or is that the appeal of it—you look all delicate but really you'll throw anyone who gets tangled in your cape over a table like it ain't no thing?”

"I dunno, you seem chill with being tangled in my cape." Dave pulled it tighter around both of them. "And I only suplex people who can't come to terms with their tendency to draw human genitalia on important documents."

“This,” Karkat pulled his arm out of the cape with some difficulty and gestured to it, “is not tangled. This is organized cuddling, and I will have you know it bears no resemblance to your hideous tangles. It's much more orderly and nice and—oh my god, you totally drew those fucking dicks and you know it.”

He made a face. “Besides, I didn't even know what your horrifying mammalian dongs looked like then. Now shut your face flap, I'm trying to watch and we keep missing it. I can't be an objective judge if I only watch half of the human version.”

Dave decided to let it drop for the time being. He couldn't really say no to watching more of the show, anyway.

On the screen, Will joked with the admissions counselor. Dave snorted in amusement. "My wardrobe is a fashion miracle, too." He did his best to imitate Gamzee's fluctuating tone whenever the subject of miracles came up. "Will earns five out of five hats."

“Holy shit, fashion miracle only describes it in the loosest terms. As in, ‘it’s a miracle he doesn’t have million-dollar fines from the fashion police.’ If you ever dressed like that, I think I'd either go blind or wish that I had.” Karkat grinned at the Gamzee imitation, and resisted the urge to clamp down on the expression. It wasn't like he was being a bad moirail for thinking impressions were funny, and Dave wasn't going to call him out on thinking it was funny.

“Zero out of five hats for terrible taste in dress, go tell Kanaya about your transgressions. Prostrate yourself before her and beg for mercy. You can only hope your death will be swift and mostly painless, heathen.” He was having a hard time keeping a straight face, but managed to sound at least sort of serious and ominous.

"What was that? You want me to prostate myself, in front of _Kanaya_? Don't think she'd appreciate that, man."

Dave watched quietly as Will tried to suss out whether Princeton's student bodies included any hot chicks. He wrinkled his nose. Although he hadn't noticed this kind of shit as much as a kid, upon rewatching the series, all the blatant misogyny was rubbing him the wrong way.

“I don't even know what that _means,_ but I have no doubts that that's absolutely disgusting. I want you to cleanse yourself, you fucking perv. You know exactly what I meant.” Karkat's tone was too light, however, to convey any actual scolding.

He was mostly still getting caught up on the minor plot differences between Fresh and Thresh. In the Alternian version of the episode, they'd been applying for an elite threshie training corps, that only the most skilled could get into. It was reasonably similar to the college idea, but it still seemed really damn odd to him. The little differences were what really sent it into weirdville.

Once the cheerful notes of Captain & Tennille began to play, the montage got into full swing. Dave couldn't help but laugh. "Love will keep us together, Karkat, but only if we do shadow puppets and you let me teach you how to bust out sweet moves like Will's."

Will Smith had paved the way with the miniature dance lesson. If it was possible to hump someone facetiously, this was what Dave did for a few seconds, in sync with the beat of the song.

Karkat flushed and groaned in embarrassment, covering his face with his hands. “You're absolutely fucking unbelievable, oh my god. I should've expected nothing less from you, and yet here we are. I'm getting poked in the ass with your crotch and have failed, once again, to expect this even though by this point I should know better.”

"I'm not poking you with anything, dude." Dave frowned, concerned, and sat up so he could look at Karkat's face. "Did I make it weird? I'm sorry."

He wasn't used to having in-person conversations without his shades on; he felt like he was being put on the spot every time he opened his mouth. It would've even been accurate to stop after "not used to having in-person conversations" in general. It did make it clear that he was sincere in the apology, though.

Aw, man. Karkat hadn't wanted to make Dave feel _bad_ about it, it was just.... different and kind of embarrassing. He turned his head to look at Dave, trying to think of the best way to explain that without making it sound like he was mad or upset.

"No, no, you didn't make it weird, like, bad weird. I mean, okay, a lot of the stuff about poking was me being melodramatic, and if you want to hump me to really bad music I don't really care, but it's like..." He waved a hand vaguely and made a face. "Bleh. It's a little embarrassing, because, I don't know, we've already boned but I still don't get why you'd want to hump me to really bad music, you know? It's not anything bad you're doing, I just never seem to get used to it. So I kind of throw a fit, sometimes, so it seems like I'm used to it and have already resigned myself to a life of getting humped to terrible music or various other relationshippy things."

Welp, that sure was a monologue.

There was a lot about suddenly engaging in emotional intimacy that Dave hadn’t completely come to terms with, either, so he could echo the sentiment there. As far as Karkat’s particular brand of phrasing went, Dave couldn’t help but snicker.

“So, just throwing this out there, but I could hump you to non-terrible music. We could put the Fresh Prince theme back on and get our hump on.”

Smooth.

"What if you humped to no music at all?" Karkat responded, pausing when he realized how that sounded. "Later, I mean, if you still need your dose of bump and grind. We're watching this and not even your supreme mammalian thrusting skills can distract me from winning this bet." Okay, so that was basically a blatant solicitation, but Dave had kind of been poking him in the ass with his dick earlier and it was a little distracting at the time, okay? Even if the humping was ridiculous and should have perma-killed Karkat's bulge for all eternity.

"Tell you what, how about you make a playlist and we'll go from there?"

Then Carlton showed up wearing Will's jacket and it was painfully awkward to watch. Was this proto embarrassment-porn? Dave settled back against Karkat and reached for his hand again; time to listen to the show and get his cuddle on.

Karkat snickered, “Alright.” Watching Carlton attempt to mimic his way into Princeton was a fucking pain to watch. Jesus christ.

“Oh my god, this is awful. At least Will looked a _little_ good in that stupid jacket, but holy shit. Carlton needs to stay in his fucking lane.” He smiled when Dave took his hand and squeezed it in return. “If you want me to make a playlist, though, no promises it won't either consist entirely of soundtracks from various movies or be like brutally murdering your ears. Or both.”

Dave smiled back, even though Karkat couldn't see it. "That'd be cool with me, actually."

He let his eyes close again and lay quietly. A few minutes of the show passed, and Carlton was suddenly offering Hilary in exchange for admission to Princeton. Dave narrowed his eyes. "Are they fuckin' for real? Did Carlton just tell that dude to get his sister shitfaced and fuck her?"

Karkat grimaced, “Eugh, yeah, I think so. That's… bleh.” He furrowed his brows. “Dick fucking move, Carlton. I'm not sure why they had to put that in the show, that's like. What the shit, man.”

He thought about it for a minute and sighed. “That is really, just. Trolls getting each other shitfaced when the drones were coming was a thing, but like, not for a goddamn bartering chip. That is just straight up nasty.”

"It's the stuff that goes over your head as a kid, or a... wriggler?" He couldn't remember if it was wriggler or wiggler. Whoops. "And now I'm noticing it, and it's fucking gross and just... why."

Dave wasn't initially sure how to respond, so he curled his arm more tightly around Karkat and squeezed his hand. "That's... That also doesn't sound great."

“Wiggler,” Karkat responded absently, “And yeah, I get what you mean. But like, I mean, it's not terrible. Drones are—well, were a thing that happened, so. It's better than seeing the sharp end of a culling blade, you know?”

There was an awkward moment, and then Karkat shrugged. “Anyway, they're gone, so it's not like you're going to have to get me fucking shitfaced so we don't die a swift death. It's pretty irrelevant now.”

Dave went silent for a brief moment. He squeezed Karkat's hand again, as if he hadn't communicated his emotional state the first few times he'd done so, as if this was the only way to convey it.

"Dude, I could never do that to you. Not even if our lives depended on it."

What a bullshit scenario, too. Hypothetical shitty thought experiments had always pissed him off, but this took it to a new level of what the fuck. Knowing that this had been _common_ on Alternia was tremendously shitty.

Karkat thought about that for a moment, gnawing on his lip. "That's actually. Huh. I mean, like, I never actually thought you _would,_ but."

He wasn't quite sure how to put what he wanted to say into words. After another pause, he craned his neck to look at Dave. "Thanks, seriously. Even though it's not like I was scared you would ever do that, like, consciously or anything, that's still weirdly... I don't even fucking know. I'm glad you said it, at any rate, and I'd rather go down in an epic drone battle than do that to you, too. Just so you know."

After a little maneuvering, Karkat rolled over and kissed Dave's forehead. Dave affirming that he'd never do that helped drive home the fact that there weren't any drones left, because even though intellectually Karkat knew they were gone, sometimes he still found himself worrying about it. It was kind of nice that Dave didn't brush it off, even though Karkat had tried to.

So his heart totally skipped a beat. Maybe he ought to alchemize some... something, that'd figure out if he had an arrhythmia. Karkat had given him a bloodpusher condition, it seemed.

"I know we kinda talked about it last time, but like." Dave tried to get his thoughts together, and let his hand rest on Karkat's waist as they faced each other. The couch was sort of cramped, but, eh. "I'm promising you right now, and this promise is good for forever. I'm _never_ gonna be pissed or upset if you tell me to stop whatever, or... just. If you're not cool with whatever we're doing, then I'm not cool with it either."

Karkat nodded, putting a hand on Dave's shoulder. "Same for you. I don't want to make you do something you don't want to, ever. I'm cool with being here. More than cool with it, I'm like fucking... the ice plains or the lab floor when the heating cuts out, that's how cool I am with just being here. As much as I bitch, your company is pretty entertaining."

"...Shit, my ass is like halfway off the couch, I gotta roll back over." As much as he'd like to keep facing Dave, it really wasn't feasible on a couch. He rolled back over and tilted his head back to affectionately bonk Dave's chin with the tip of his horn.

"Yeah, man. Lab floor et cetera to you, too. I like being here." Dave kissed Karkat's horn, although he wasn't sure if that was somehow taboo.

He glanced up at the screen he'd been tuning out. They'd gone from Will imitating a gay lisp—also not funny and not necessary and he'd again not realized it as a kid—to It's A Wonderful Life, to: "Oh hey, Tom Jones."

Karkat let out a pleased hum; the horn kissing was a nice gesture, even if with so little pressure he didn't feel much besides the slight temperature difference.

"Yeah. Oh, hey, Carlton's a pretty good singer in this version." Carlton was an equally good singer in Thresh Prince, but Karkat was still expecting some element of the human version to be wildly different than it. The bet was going to be a draw at this rate.

"Isn't he? I love that dude."

Now _this_ was the scene he'd chosen this episode for. He could've done without Hilary and Ashley being reduced to hair styling and dancing, or Aunt Viv running off with the milkman—not very clever from a writing standpoint, and doubly weird in the Alternian version, he suspected—but this. The Carlton Dance. This was prime television, right here.

"This is gonna be stuck in my head so bad."

Karkat nodded. “I don't think I'll ever get this sequence out of my head. I swear, any time I have a moment to think it'll just be like 'remember when you watched human Carlton sing a song with human Tom Jones in an absurdly accurate replication of Thresh Prince and actually enjoyed yourself?' Wild times, dude.”

"Was this the moment that did it for you? You weren't enjoying yourself, but Carlton made it worthwhile?" Dave kissed the top of Karkat's head, at the base of a horn. "I feel the same way, to tell you the truth."

“It wasn't like I wanted to fling myself into one of the numerous gaping maws of the horrorterrors in an attempt to escape, if that's what you're asking.” Karkat closed his eyes and let out a soft, content chirp when Dave kissed the base of his horn. “This is nice, anyway. I'd probably enjoy myself if we weren't watching anything, but this is a pretty fucking great scene.”

"Do you wanna put on another episode after this?" Dave asked. "One of these discs burned weird, so some of the footage got kinda fucky. Wish I could remember which one."

“Sure, dude, or we could just sit and talk. I don't really give a shit at this point since pretty much anything is better than sitting here festering in my own boredom.” Karkat shrugged, watching as Tom Jones left the house in a cloud of fog. “Let's watch the fucky one. It can give you some sick inspiration for your sweet bro and hella jeff comics. Behold it in all of its horrifying, poorly burned glory. Bask in it.”

"Rendering problems and codec issues definitely fit the SBAHJ-sthetic."

A few more minutes of footage passed as Uncle Phil and Carlton discussed the day's misadventures. Dave echoed Phil's dialogue. "Who you are is just fine. I mean that." Dave gripped Karkat’s shoulder meaningfully, to add to the melodrama. "Karkat, you're grounded."

Karkat snorted, tilting his head back to bonk Dave with his horns again. “You can't ground me—I'm a fucking paragon of virtue. There's fuckall _to_ actually punish me for and I'd like to see you try it.”

He reached up and flicked Dave's hand. “But I'll ground you on charges of quoting TV shows at me, see if I don't. And then all you'll be able to do is despondently kick the coffee machine and wish you hadn't tried to ground the likes of Karkat fucking Vantas. You can base your next comic off that too, and call it Sweet Bro's lament or some shit.”

"Pffff. Did you just turn that into a coffee grounds joke?"

Sweet Bro's Lament had potential. He'd have to think about that some more.

Despite Karkat's squirming, Dave was still comfy as fuck. He shifted to stretch his legs out a little, then settled back into his established spot. With his hand holding Karkat's against Karkat's chest, snuggled the fuck up nice and close, he could not be assed to move. Not for all the boonbucks in paradox space. (Granted, those weren't very compelling lately.)

"Dude, this…." Dave laughed a little under his breath, closed his eyes, and smiled against Karkat's shoulder. He squeezed Karkat's hand, exhaled gently, and stayed right where he was.

“This...?” Karkat was definitely enjoying the snuggles, and he kept (not so) subtly glancing down at Dave's hand in his and smiling to himself, but that statement was vague as all fuck.

“And actually, the coffee grounds joke was totally on accident. I guess I'm just a natural comedic genius.” He could've gone on some more about that, but instead he fell silent and just let himself appreciate the moment. After a little while, the telltale rattle/chirp hybrid sound of Karkat purring started up, quietly at first and gradually louder.

Karkat's alien purring, or whatever that adorable bullshit was, was so potent that Dave could feel it vibrating through his chest, too. He'd never had any pets as a kid, but if he'd had a bug-cat who he was also cuddling and fucking, then... well, wait. This wasn't going anywhere good. Scratch that whole line of thought. This was not the time for Akwete Purrmusk.

His clothes were slightly too warm for the amount of extended spooning they were up to, but Dave didn't mind too much. No matter what he did, no matter how embarrassed he felt, he couldn't stop smiling. At least Karkat couldn't see.

"I, uh." His heart rate sped up. Dave rubbed the pad of his thumb along Karkat's hand, and laughed to himself. "Shit, sorry."

“You're speaking in riddles, dude,” Karkat said, once he managed to make actual words instead of buzzing every time he opened his mouth. “What are you even sorry for, trying to ground me? Being an enigmatic chucklefuck?” He laughed a little and rolled his eyes.

The purring quieted down a little now that Karkat was distracted, but didn't die away completely. What was such a big deal that Dave needed multiple tries to actually say it? Normally they were both huge fucking blabbermouths, so Karkat could only wonder what it was that Dave was getting around to saying.

Dave laughed again, breathily. He felt fucking stupid, was what. Was there ever a good moment for anything? Probably not. Probably everything was just as much bullshit as every split second before and after, bullshitting back and forth forever.

"I'm really fucking happy when I'm with you, is what I'm trying to spit out, here." Dave watched and felt the rise and fall of Karkat's chest. "You make me feel like it's okay to just do my thing."

Karkat processed that for a moment before a huge, goofy grin spread across his face. He probably looked ridiculous, but fuck it. “Shit—um, haha, now I'm the one stalling, but, ah.” He squeezed Dave's hand, purr returning to full volume and with enough force that when he next spoke his voice wavered with it.

“Same, except about you. God, that is the worst way ever to phrase it, but. Hm. I like that I don't have to worry about impressing you or making an ass out of myself when I'm around you. You make me happy too, like, I should have some eloquent, poetic metaphor here about how fucking happy you make me but I can't think of jack shit, so. You make me really fucking happy, dude, and I'm thrilled it goes both ways.” That amounted to the least romantic confession ever, if it even counted as a confession, but for once Karkat couldn't be assed to give a shit.

Dave tucked his forehead against Karkat's shoulder; it wasn't even that he _wanted_ to stop smiling, but the longer it went on, the less he felt like he could control his expression, and the more he wanted to groan at himself. It wasn't even rational to feel like that, and he knew that, consciously, but. Fuck.

"I know I'm kinda shit at like, being… forthright with anything, I guess? So I'm fucking totally out of my element here."

Karkat's hand was warm. Dave's hand was sweating. Gross.

"When we first talked and met and whatever, I didn't think we'd wind up friends, and I'm still kind of... I don't even know. Reeling? Like I fell asleep in a pile of bullshit and woke up, and I made it all up, as cliché as that sounds." He made an exasperated noise that might've been a half-laugh. "Augh. I'm glad it worked out this way."

Karkat nodded, thinking about what to say. “Yeah, me too. I mean, it took me fucking forever to get my head out of my ass and stop thinking of ways to piss you off and to actually try being _friends_ with you, but I'm glad I did.”

The handholding was getting kind of sweaty and a little gross, but it was still nice, so he ignored it for the time being.

“...I'm not exactly awesome at the whole 'feelings' and 'opening up' stuff either, but like. I don't know, this is pretty great. I'm kind of fucking... still a little in shock, sometimes, that you're cool with this, because this kind of stuff is squarely in the too-good-to-be-true zone and I keep expecting to wake up or some shit.” He was basically echoing what Dave had just said, but oh well. “I would be extremely goddamn upset if it turned out it was a dream. I like you.”

Dave wondered if Karkat could feel his heart racing. Probably not, coupled with the purr-thing. Roy Batty tears in the rain type of shit.

An unpleasant, nerve-wracking tension settled at the nape of his neck, like ASMR somehow gone wrong. Dave tried to slow his own breathing, with limited success. This was his moment, and he had to seize it or he'd... probably disappoint B-Rabbit? Something. Fuck. No wonder he rambled when he spoke, if everything he thought was this much of a clusterfuck.

Dave held Karkat's hand tightly enough that they may as well have been watching a _Saw_ marathon. He laughed for the nth time, internally winced, and tried to get his thoughts out.

"I like you a lot, dude. Like... a _lot_ , a lot." He cleared his throat. "So. Yeah."

Karkat raised his eyebrows. “I kind of got the impression that you might like me, yeah.” That sounded a lot less charming out loud, and he laughed impulsively at himself. “Uh, shit. Hah, I like you a lot too, Dave, you dingus. An absolute shitload of, um… liking-you-feelings? That sounds terrible, holy fuck. But you get what I mean, yeah?”

"Yeah, I gotcha." Dave finally let go of his hand; the hand-holding had gotten a little too clammy for comfort. He crossed his arm over Karkat's stomach and shoved his hand between Karkat's side and the couch cushion. "I just... feel so stupid for it. I don't know. I feel stupid for saying it out loud, and I know I shouldn't, but I do."

Karkat used his newly-freed hand to reach up and awkwardly cup Dave's cheek, although for more than a few seconds it turned out to be hells of uncomfortable, so he put his hand back down to his side pretty quickly. “You're not stupid, dude. Like, hm.”

He took a deep breath, mulling over what he was going to say next to make certain it came out right. “I mean, I kind of knew you liked me, since we're spooning and being affectionate and shit, but like... you know I'm a paranoid fucker, so if you hadn't said it I might have started worrying you _didn't_ like me, as stupid as that is. So, even if you kind of feel like a dumbass for saying it, I'm glad you did.”

Admitting that he was that, well, paranoid about relationships was kind of embarrassing in turn. It was completely irrational to think Dave would come and snuggle Karkat and watch TV if he didn't like him, but that didn't stop Karkat from worrying about it sometimes.

"Right, and like, I can't shake this feeling that I'm an idiot for feeling shit intensely when it hasn't been long enough, or whatever?" This was difficult to articulate. "As if there's some arbitrary amount of time that's supposed to pass before I can say with full fucking confidence, hell yeah, this dude is so goddamn cool, I want to be around him all the goddamn time."

As a time player, maybe he was supposed to know. He was fairly fucking sure that there weren't concrete rules for any of this, though.

Karkat touched his face and it was so goddamn sweet (if awkwardly angled) that he didn't know what to do with himself. Goddamn, 4X combobob.

Karkat made a thoughtful sound. “I guess that makes sense. I mean, you don't have to say anything you don't want to, but I'm really fucking glad you did. I know I sound like a broken record with that by now, but seriously. And like, I really love just sitting and chilling with you, or shooting the shit, or doing basically anything.”

He drummed his fingers on his leg. “I'm pretty much the most intense guy there is, anywho, I'm not gonna fault you for that shit.”

"Fault me for what, talking?" Dave squeezed Karkat's torso. There was so much squeezing going on. "I'm glad. We're both intense and fucking awkward and that's... uh. That sure is a thing."

Karkat had used the word "love" and Dave didn't know exactly how to process that. Maybe he was too hung up on phrasing. Maybe wording wasn't a big deal.

“For having intense feelings, lususfucker.” Karkat let his hand rest lightly on Dave's forearm. “If I blamed you for talking, though, that'd be about equally as stupid. And I think we're also intensely awkward.” He stretched, shifting a little to get more comfortable, and let out a soft sigh. This was nice, but Karkat's thoughts had started wandering a little.

Who could blame him, okay? The conversation had been fucking laced with innuendo from the start, he'd been poked in the ass with a boner, and now there was all this... tender emotional shit. It was a completely reasonable response!

Lususfucker. He'd have to remember that one, too.

"Man, I wouldn't even blame you if you wanted me to shut up. I'm fucking embarrassing."

Dave wasn't ready to let go of him. Not even slightly. With all this intimate emotional exploration or whatever, he was prepared to spend the rest of this hangout session remaining mega close to Karkat, and not budging a fucking inch.

“You're not—well, okay, you're a little embarrassing sometimes, but not right now. I don't want you to shut up.” Karkat shifted some more and tapped his fingers on Dave's arm. The wandering thoughts persisted, despite his attempts to focus on Fresh Prince (which was now looping the selection screen). God fucking damn it.

"Carlton's fuckin' existential crisis got me thinking," Dave began. "Do you think if somebody like... I dunno, Vriska? If she was still around, do you think you and I would still be hanging out?"

He shifted his other arm to rest his head on it; it was at risk of falling asleep with the way it was trapped under his ribcage.

"Or if Gamzee _wasn't_ around?"

He hesitated to bring up Terezi, or the way they'd initially tried to use her against each other, or tried to intrude upon her personal business. It was still too raw of a nerve. Eventually they'd discuss it, he was sure, and on that note he owed her an apology. It was a bit much to get into while the Fresh Prince theme was on repeat.

Karkat snorted. “Vriska? That's ridiculous, dude. And anyway, in the unlikely event she somehow ended up on the meteor with us, I think we'd have to hang out more, 'cause like... the girls would all hang out? And, uh. Same if Gamzee wasn't here. Besides he's always, like. You know, lurking.”

He winced slightly; he very plainly _sounded_ distracted, and while it was unlikely Dave would somehow magically know it was because Karkat was a little horny, it was still embarrassing.

"You think so? You don't think that Scourge Sisters would be a thing again?" Terezi had told him about her FLARPing days at one point while they were spending time with the Mayor, and insisted loudly that she was cool talking about it. Dave hoped for her sake that it was the truth. "That then you and Gamzee would be hanging out, and I'd have no choice but to bond with the Mayor and take on additional responsibilities for the governmental goings-on of Can Town?"

Dave pulled his hand out from being shoved between Karkat and the couch cushion, and returned it to resting across Karkat's chest.

“I don't see where you're getting that Gamzee would, like, suddenly come out of the vents to chill with me with the addition of Vriska, dude. We'd be stuck watching the horrifying whirlwind of Terezi and Vriska and Kanaya and Rose all play fucking games with each other's pans while Gamzee continued to haunt the ventilation systems.”

Fucking hell, this topic of conversation should reasonably be a real fucking bulge killer, but of course it wasn't now. That would be just Karkat's luck. He squeezed Dave's arm and jiggled his leg a little bit, fidgeting for fidgeting's sake. It wasn't like Dave would fault him for wanting to ~get it on~ or whatever, so...

Dave cringed. "Yeah. That sounds like a godawful nightmare." Off the top of his head he couldn't remember if Rose had ever mentioned dealing with Vriska, or whether that'd been entirely John; not that Egbert and Harley were around to ask for clarification, anyway. He wanted to believe that Rose could best Vriska in a match of wits, but they _were_ both Light players, so.

Hm.

"Weren't Kanaya and Vriska a thing? Do you think Rose and Kanaya would be a thing, if that was a thing that was currently thing-ing?"

He'd heard altogether too much gossip about troll relationships, but it wasn't like there was much else to do on the meteor other than talk.

Karkat scoffed. “I don't fucking know, man, that shit is old news, and even assuming they'd still have a thing to be...thing-ing or whatever I don't think that'd mean that Rose and Kanaya wouldn't have any chemistry or anything. God, just fucking—”

With a frustrated groan, Karkat took hold of Dave's wrist and managed to shove his hand down his pants with minimal fumbling over the buttons and zipper. Yes. Hell yes. Hell fucking yes. That was so goddamn smooth.

Dave let out a short breath, amused. "Hi, okay." He took the hint—which wasn't much of a hint, and was more of a STRONG suggestion—and slid his fingertips down across Karkat's bulge, or at least what had partially slipped out.

"So I'm guessing talking about your friends' shitty failed relationships wasn't entertaining enough? I am offended."

“I should be offended that you're such a dirty gossip,” Karkat replied, voice coming out somewhat breathy. “I'm unbelievably fucking done with talking about shitty failed relationships, you don't even understand. The donest.”

The couch was still as limited on space as ever, so rolling his hips towards Dave's hand mostly turned into a little bit of back and forth and not a whole hell of a lot much else. At the increased stimulation, though, the rest off his bulge unsheathed in one fluid movement and curled a bit around Dave's fingers, making Karkat inhale sharply.

This hadn't turned out the way Dave had expected, but he couldn't say he wasn't in favor of Karkat leading the charge. That said, as great as Will Smith was, hearing the same forty seconds of music on repeat was starting to get on his nerves.

"Can we, uh. Can we mute the TV?"

Dave thumbed at the ridge of Karkat's sheath, at the base of his bulge, and used his other four fingers to support the length of it. Karkat's pants and underwear were restricting the movement of his hand, though.

"And you should take these off or slide them down, or something."

Karkat grumbled, but fumbled with the remote until the TV muted. Admittedly, listening to the DVD loop over and over and fucking over was grating on his nerves too. Will Smith was amazing and a great actor and all, but jesus christ.

“Okay, fuck, hang on a second.” The pants weren't exactly loose-fitting, so it took some acrobatic shimmying to get the pants and underwear down past his hips without a) removing Dave's hand from his bulge (unacceptable) or b) falling off the couch (also unacceptable, mostly because that would also remove Dave's hand from his bulge).

“If I stain my couch, you're helping me alchemize new cushions. Or, I guess, when I stain my couch because there's pretty much no fucking way I'm not going to.”

Dave kissed at Karkat's neck and kept his hand moving steadily and lightly on his bulge. "Do you want to move to your concupiscent platform?"

He somehow managed not to laugh. Troll terminology was still really fucking funny.

Karkat shrugged, “No, because then that would be stained and you'd have to help me alchemize a new one of those, _and_ I'd have to get up and walk over there and that's—mngh. Not happening.”

He craned his neck to glance at Dave's face. “Unless you wanna move so I can,” he waved his hand vaguely, “return the favor?” It was probably kind of stupid to be using euphemisms while Dave was getting friendly with his junk, but oh well. It wasn't like they were trying to dirty talk each other or anything.

Dave took the opportunity to kiss Karkat's cheek. "I was thinking more along the lines of you changing the sheets on your bed, you nasty trash. Unless all you're worried about as far as 'hivekeeping' goes is just cleaning the communal bathroom."

The errant contact-lens-related boner was making a comeback. Dave pressed his hips against Karkat's ass and slid his fingertips down to rub at the entrance to his nook.

“If you think it won't soak through the fucking sheets, you have really fucking underestimated troll biology. Changing the—changing the cushions is gonna be easier than trying to fix the irreversible damage done to my concupiscent platform.”

Bare assed for the most part, Karkat could feel Dave's boner a lot more than he had earlier. He rocked his hips back against Dave, and tried to simultaneously push down some on his fingers. “I'll have you know that my hive was always, fuck, always spotless. You're the nasty trash.” Not really his best comeback, but to be fair these weren't exactly the usual circumstances. 

"Well." Dave swept his fingertips back from Karkat's nook, up along his bulge to tease at the tapered tip. "Last time I got a literal faceful of front-row experience, so. I should know."

The god tier pajamas were way too hot. He should've learned his lesson by now; next time he hung out with Karkat, he was gonna have to wear something with short sleeves.

"Is this what Will Smith does to you? Not that I can't relate, but chalk one up for human Will Smith, huh?"

“Well, I mean, I'm not gonna say Will Smith isn't hot even without horns, but mostly it was because you've been, like, pressed up against me for an extended period of time and you totally had a boner for a little while, which didn't, hm, help the effort to keep you out of my pants.” Or, the effort to keep Karkat from putting Dave in his pants? Technically.

He jerked his hips forward some, making a vaguely frustrated noise in the back of his throat. “You're a goddamn bulgetease, you know that?” Not that the teasing was entirely bad—it was kind of nice to not leap into full throttle sexville at the drop of a hat.

"I'd get turned on from being pressed up against me, too."

Full throttle sexville would be the sort of place Dave kept tourist memorabilia from, if it wasn't a hypothetical non-location in a narrative construct.

His pajama pants weren't doing much to hide his dick. Dave kissed Karkat's neck again as he moved his fingers up and down Karkat's bulge, the way he'd jack himself off. That didn't sound like a bad idea, come to think of it.

“Are you telling me you want to literally go fuck yourself, Dave?” Karkat laughed a little, before an idea came to him and he paused. He turned over on the couch, cupped Dave's face in a gesture as cliché as it was romantic, and kissed him slowly. Thankfully, it went much better than the first time they'd attempted to mash mouths.

When Karkat pulled away, he grinned at Dave, just the tiniest bit punch-(kiss?)drunk. “Despite your obvious attraction to yourself, what if you fucked me instead? Like, for real?” He flushed a little bit at the suggestion, because while it was probably the smoothest fucking thing he'd ever done in his entire life, it was really fucking brazen.

"I dunno, dude. You get enough handsome alternate timeline versions of yourself around, and you tell me if you don't change your tune. You're being closed-minded about self-shipping."

Dave kissed him back, keeping his mouth relaxed and his movements gentle. The first time they'd tried they'd both gone too hard and tried to micromanage themselves, and it had failed spectacularly. Karkat's teeth were mostly a non-issue as long as you went slow, he'd realized.

He wasn't sure what to do with his hands. One of them was wet, and the other was still supporting his head. Without another logical option, he resumed fondling Karkat's bulge, and moved his knee to push between Karkat's thighs.

"Was the other shit we did not 'real' fucking?" Dave's chest felt tight, his breathing quickened with anticipation and maybe some performance anxiety. "I'm up for it, though, if that's what you want."

Thank fuck Dave wasn't wearing anything on his legs rougher than pajama pants; denim on nook would have been an… unpleasant experience.

Karkat shrugged, “You know what I meant, man. We should do the actual putting-your-junk-in-my-junk business. It's… I don't fucking know, realer than hands. Leveling up or what the fuck ever.” He made a face. “Yeah, I want to. We should probably move to the concupiscent platform, though, even though we'll be staining two things. I'm not going to morph into a goddamn pretzel on the couch just to pail.”

Dave hesitated before venturing with his pun. "Sex-cheladder?"

The fabric of his pajama pants immediately began to soak up the fluid from Karkat's nook. Once again, it was a relief that his color scheme lent itself to this sort of shit going on, or all his clothes would wind up stained pinkish red. He'd had enough bad luck with art supplies and cheese products, back on earth. Troll bodily fluids were a whole new level of laundry.

Karkat gave Dave his best deadpan. “Your puns are terrible and so are you.” He sat up on the couch, which was kind of difficult to do without sitting on Dave and getting geneslime everywhere, and shifted a little uncomfortably. Everything below the waist was kind of squelchy.

Walking around without pants on was really fucking weird and sort of chilly, but Karkat stood up anyway and gestured towards the bed. “We should probably relocate before we level up, though. C'mon.”

"I've come to terms with my identity as a master of puns." Dave followed Karkat to the bed, flopped down heavily, and pulled off his god tier top. He'd been so accustomed to wearing shades all the time that it was a relief to be able to yank off his shirt without worrying about the frames. "As beautiful and terrible as the dawn. Pun game stronger than the foundations of the earth."

Karkat rolled his eyes and pulled off his own sweater and undershirt. “My bulge is gonna permanently retract if you don't quit with the pun warfare, dude. Or commentary on pun warfare, I guess.”

He hadn't exactly planned much farther than getting on the bed, besides a vague 'peg A in slot B = awesome sex,' so he glanced around the room for a second while he thought of how the fuck to proceed here. “Sooooo, like, is there a particular way you wanna do this, or should we just go with the, shit, what's the human term for standard pailing position? Like, I'd be on my back and you'd be, uhhh, on top?”

Maybe standard pailing position was a little boring, but kinking it up was probably going a little too fast since they hadn't even tested the compatibility of their junk.

Dave slid his pajama pants and underwear down and left them balled up at the end of the bed. He shook his head. "Dude, you're overthinking shit. Come here."

So maybe he was feeling sentimental. That was to be expected, right? He was getting laid, but he wasn't _just_ getting laid, and though he didn't want to heap a bunch of stigma and expectation onto any First Anything, it was still kind of a big deal. Karkat had a tendency to micromanage himself into frustration, and Dave could spot the signs at this point.

He lay down next to Karkat, on his side, his weight propped up on one elbow. With his free hand, he reached to support the back of Karkat's head as he closed his eyes and leaned in to kiss him, softly. After a few moments he shifted to bring his knee slowly between Karkat's thighs again, like it'd been on the couch.

Karkat made an attempt to talk through the kiss for a moment, before relaxing and opening his mouth to kiss back properly. It was kind of hard to stop himself from trying to plan everything in an attempt to make it perfect, but this was an excellent distraction. He chirped when Dave put his knee between his legs, rolling his hips down in response.

...Okay, so maybe trying to make it perfect would by default make it not-perfect. Going without a plan seemed to be working just fine for now, anyway, so maybe Dave was right about overthinking it. Hm. Karkat pulled back for a second, breathing gone a little ragged, and laughed under his breath. “Okay, so, if I say 'Dave, I want to touch your stupid mammal junk,' is that overthinking it? Because, Dave, I totally want to touch your stupid mammal junk.”

"You can touch my hella awesome mammal junk." Dave kissed the corner of Karkat's mouth, then let his head rest on the pillow. He watched Karkat grinding against his thigh, because... well, _fuck_ , that was hot.

It wasn't that Dave didn't want to discuss the logistics of them having sex. He just had a sneaking suspicion that Karkat was going to get hung up on the trees and forget about the forest. Karkat was the sort of person who might actually get hung up about individual leaves and sticks, never mind trees.

Dave looked at Karkat and smiled. "It's all chill. Whatever we do, or don't do, as long as you're cool with it, then I'm good, too."

Karkat snorted, though it sounded less skeptical about mammal junk than he'd intended, with how he was basically humping Dave's leg. "I don't know, you might not be game for cleaning the ablution stalls or contemplating dust hopbeasts in silence. Be thankful I don't want to contemplate any sort of hopbeasts, dust or otherwise."

**Mindful of his claws, Karkat wrapped his hand around Dave's dick, running it along the shaft and occasionally pausing to run his thumb over the foreskin and head. "Hey, if we do get to the actual shit, are you gonna stay this dry? I'm probably, hrm, wet enough for both of us if not, but now that I think of it you have a pitiful amount of lubrication and it's kind of daunting. How do human nooks even deal."**

Dave frowned. "Don't call it like... 'actual' anything. All of this is actually 'actual' stuff, 'cause we're both here." He closed his eyes and let out a slow, deep breath as he pushed his hips towards Karkat's hand. "Unless I did 'actually' dream about going down on you."

He moved his leg in time with his hips, as much as he could coordinate the handjob he was getting with the nook-grinding Karkat was up to. "As far as wetness, this is about it for me. I can't say much for human nooks, though. I haven't been near one."

"Well, I mean," Karkat closed his mouth and shrugged, "...I guess it isn't really different or better somehow, besides what bits go where, but it seems like a huge fucking deal. Like 'get out the musical instruments and play a goddamn fanfare, everybody, genitals are going places' or something." He glanced up at Dave and smiled a little.

"I'm reasonably sure it wasn't a dream, which is as good as anything with the fucking dreambubbles. So we did in fact actually get it on." Maybe assigning too much importance to something like this would fuck it up. That was at least part of why Terezi had ended her and Karkat's thing, anyway. (Although they'd obviously never pailed). Pailing Dave was nice and intimate and fun but, like… Karkat's nook was leaking all down Dave's thigh and was making quiet sticky noises every time he moved. This clearly wasn't going to be like a book.

The quiet, sticky noises were exactly what Dave wanted to hear. The sound effects reminded him _very_ pleasantly of what it'd been like to eat Karkat out, to have Karkat's thighs over his shoulders and his tongue working between them. Dave huffed, and opened his eyes to admire Karkat's contented expression.

"God, dude, maybe it's lame or trite to say it, but you're fucking hot."

Goddamn, he was glad to be here, just like this.

Karkat's cheeks darkened and he smiled, letting out a slightly surprised laugh. "That isn't lame, dude, I kind of like being appreciated and shit. And it's not like you're exactly unappealing, yourself."

He used his free hand to absently palm his bulge, letting it curl around his fingers and inhaling sharply. "But, uh, did you want to actually put your dick in my nook? 'Cause we don't have to if you don't want to, but like, it might be kind of fun if you _do_ want to. For science or whatever." ~Science.~ That was totally his motive.

"I... would be pretty into that, yeah, if that's cool with you." Dave laughed, nervous, and glanced away. "I've, um. Been thinking about that a _lot_ , if you wanna know."

Karkat could only do so much at one time. Dave gently moved Karkat's hand away and took over stroking his dick. "So you want me to get on top of you, or...?"

Karkat shrugged. "I think that's a good place to start, yeah." He scooted back off Dave's thigh, somewhat reluctantly because it was pretty fucking nice, and shifted so he was lying on his back. "Just like... don't ram it in or anything, alright? I'm kind of assuming human nooks are made of reinforced steel or something, so go slow."

As much as he complained about inferior human biology, what humans had going on was certainly more... durable? than troll reproductive systems, even if the half and half split still wasn't as efficient. Not that he didn't think Dave would be careful in the first place, but hey, caution couldn't be bad. 

Dave felt like there was some kind of opportunity for a ram joke, or an Aradiabot joke, but Aradia was honestly just too goddamn cool to poke fun at. Solidarity with time players and all that.

He sat up and moved to kneel between Karkat's legs. His heart was pounding, even though he knew rationally that everything was going to be fine. Hesitant, he found himself staring into the middle distance for a few seconds.

"Uh." He let his hand rest on Karkat's hip, rubbed his thumb in small circles over his skin, then reached to take Karkat's hand in his own. (Karkat's hand was still sticky. Dave didn't mind.) "Sorry in advance if I fuck this up."

"It's fine, it's not like we're fucking...sex experts—sexperts?—or anything like that. I'm not gonna get mad or blame you for not being instantly awesome. I'll probably fuck it up at least a little anyhow."

Now that they were actually getting to it, Karkat's heart rate picked up. He squeezed Dave's hand back and propped himself up on his elbows. "It'll probably still be kind of nice even if you miss or I accidentally kick your leg." Speaking of legs, having them spread to make room for Dave was...weird. Not bad or anything, but it sent a little thrill of holy-shit-this-is-actually-happening through him.

"Everything always fucks up, if fuckin' SBURB taught me anything."

Dave let go of Karkat's hand and glanced down. Was there an easy way to line this up? His crotch was too high up, and Karkat's was too low on the bed. "Can you like... lift your ass, kinda? Or not rest on your arms like that?"

Karkat glanced down. Huh. That was... not gonna work. "Oh, shit, yeah I can. I can't hold my hips up for too long though, not without cramping like a motherfucker." He leaned back down, craning his neck awkwardly so he could still kind of see what was going on. After a pause, he lifted his hips up a few inches off the mattress. It felt sort of like he was putting on a show, actually.

"Um, is that good? I can't see shit like this, so I don't know if that's too high or still too low or anything." Hopefully Dave wouldn't need him to hold his hips up like that the whole time, but Karkat was far from an expert on human dicks, so who even knew.

Dave made a face. Now Karkat was too high up. "This is like some fucking... bullshit seesaw fucking shit."

He grabbed his dick and frotted experimentally across the outside of Karkat's nook. That was good. Not sustainable at this angle, but good, and worth a few more tries. Karkat was slick and it felt nice, to say the least; his shallow thrusting landed the tip of his dick at either side of Karkat's bulge, but on a lucky movement, it nudged the base of his bulge.

They'd have to try more of that later, though.

"Fuck, uh. I guess just lie down totally."

"Oh thank fuck." Karkat tried not to sound too relieved, but while Dave's dick against the outside of his nook felt good, holding himself up like that was starting to make his legs ache. He flopped back down and sighed.

"This is like the fucking... sex position mambo, goddamn. Tell me if this is gonna work, okay?"

"I'll tell you, don't worry." Dave lay down on top of Karkat and grinned at him. "Safe word is Howie Mandel."

If there was any other phrase in English that'd make Dave completely lose his boner, he couldn't think of one.

He wasn't even attempting to put anything anywhere, for the time being. Instead, he ran his fingers up into Karkat's hair and kissed him again.

“Oh my fucking god, you're ridiculous.” Karkat rolled his eyes, but kissed back despite the mention of Mandel, reaching up to cup his hands around the back of Dave's head. Fuck yeah, kissing was awesome regardless of what junk was going where, and didn't require much in the way of position besides tilting his head a little.

He pulled back after a minute, and because Dave had seemed to like it just fine the last time Karkat had tried something similar, kissed along the curve of his jawline before moving back to kiss Dave properly on the mouth again. It probably was a lot more sappy and a lot less sexy than he'd intended, but fuck it, romance was great. Karkat could be romantic if he wanted.

Dave wasn't opposed to romantic gestures, especially when they were coming from someone who'd become his best friend, someone he'd be spending an extended amount of time with in the middle of space, and with luck, much more time with after they got off the fucking meteor. He let out a short breath when Karkat kissed his jaw, and kissed him back a little more insistently as he ran a hand up along Karkat's side, along his grubscars.

"Okay," Dave said, quietly, as he caught his breath. "In all seriousness? If something hurts, I'll stop. No questions asked, for real. You'd do the same for me."

He reached down to run his palm along Karkat's thigh, and hefted their combined weight until Karkat's thighs were nudged around Dave's waist. Karkat's bulge writhed against his stomach, which made it tough not to be distracted, but his nook wasn't bad to look at, either.

With his adrenaline spiked and all sorts of nerve-wracking what-ifs racing through his mind, Dave gripped his dick and pushed the head into the slick opening of Karkat's nook.

Karkat nodded, inhaling sharply and letting out a soft moan when Dave touched his grubscars. "I'll tell you." Intelligent conversation was unbelievably difficult all of a sudden. He jumped and kicked his legs a bit when Dave pushed in, reflexively, but relaxed after taking a moment to adjust.

So far so good. So far so fucking awesome, actually; he’d expected it to hurt a little, since Dave was bigger than anything he’d put up his nook before, but thankfully the stretch was just enough to be felt and not so much it hurt. Not to mention that Dave felt entirely alien in a way that should probably not have been as exciting as it was.

"Keep going, I'm good," he cleared his throat, "This is really fucking nice, um. Definitely please keep going, if you're good too." His voice came out a little breathier than he'd intended, and he kept letting out excited, involuntary chirps. Fuck yeah, compatible biology.

"Okay. Okay, good." Dave braced his hands on either side of Karkat's shoulders, then changed his mind and lowered himself to fully embrace him and kiss his shoulder as he pushed slowly, gradually, all the way in.

Dave was not a particularly big dude, and in all honestly landed on the very slightly lesser side of average if he wasn't bullshitting himself on his measurement methodology. Even so, he'd been worried that by virtue of flared human glans versus tapered troll bulge, it wasn't going to work out with Karkat's nook. Apparently it wasn't an issue after all.

"God, _fuck_ , you feel really good." He held still for a few seconds, to allow Karkat time to acclimate, then gave several uncertain thrusts and groaned against Karkat's throat.

Karkat groaned, letting his head fall back against the pillows on the bed. This was nice. The thrusting was... weird, to say the least, and didn't really emulate the more rolling movements of a bulge, but the pressure and friction felt nice. (Not to mention that the _fact_ that the thrusting felt nothing like what Karkat imagined a bulge would was a huge part of what was turning him on).

"Hey, um, I know I totally complained about weird mammal dong, but I think that," he moved his hips just a little to kind of match rhythm with Dave and made a pleased sound in the back of his throat, "I miiiiiight have a thing for it. Probably. I don't know, ah, I'm enjoying the fuck out of myself and a lot of it is because, uh, you are not a troll. So do with that what you will."

Dave made a sound that was halfway between a laugh and a very pleased sigh. "I definitely have a thing for everything your bug dong is up to." In this case, it was writhing between them and getting Dave's pubes sticky, but he was in the sort of mood where he could appreciate it.

Dave had no idea what it felt like to put his dick anywhere other than in his own hand, so with no point of reference, he could only speculate about the differences between a nook and a vagina or ass. From what he'd seen of the kinds of shit you could buy online, though—a good many of which had been advertised in the banner ads on Bro's websites—he had a sneaking suspicion that a nook was a lot smoother than any human equivalent. Karkat was also sopping wet, which made everything a hell of a lot easier in general.

"God, you feel so _fucking_ good, though." He lifted himself up, his weight braced on his palms, and thrust into Karkat from a slightly different angle. "Do you want me to go faster?"

Karkat raised his eyebrows and laughed a little. “My bulge is just kind of... going batshit all on its own, dude. It's not doing anything fancy. You're really, like, mrgh. I dunno, it's weird as shit but it feels fucking amazing.” There was actually a little bit of genetic material pooling on his stomach, which was honestly just kind of nasty. It was to be expected, though.

He glanced up at Dave, grinning a little, “Fuck yeah you should go faster. We've at least established this works, so I figure it's only gonna improve. Full speed ahead and all that shit.”

Dave's pulse was hammering in his ears. He shifted to kneel, and barely avoided slipping out of Karkat. The whole thing felt incredibly present and up close while somehow simultaneously surreal and distant.

"Can you kinda... lift your legs? And like..." Dave grabbed at Karkat's hips for leverage and encouraged him to wrap his legs around his waist. For a brief, semi-successful moment, he scrabbled with one foot against the mattress to try for a better angle or a harder thrust, but ultimately gave up and remained kneeling.

Dave huffed and shook his head, laughing. "Fuck, man, I'm using back muscles I didn't know I fucking had."

Karkat crossed his ankles behind Dave's back. “You're getting a workout, it's good for you. I'm being the sex equivalent of a couch starch tuber, while you slave away to… fuck me in the style to which I have become accustomed, I guess? The point is, like, I am getting fucking pampered here, I don't have to do shit.” That metaphor probably could've gone better, but oh well. The angle made it a little difficult to see what was going on in the crotch-zone, but it wasn't like he couldn't feel it just fine, so.

“You good? Or do I need to move again?” He didn't _actually_ want Dave to hurt himself or pull a muscle trying to pail, if that was what was going on, so it was probably best to check just to be sure.

"I'm good. And you're a couch starch tuber." Dave couldn't stop himself from grinning. "A true potato. Only got eyes for me, right?"

Awful. Just awful.

After several false starts, Dave was getting the hang of it, and held onto Karkat's thighs as he fucked into him harder. There was something deeply satisfying about having Karkat's legs holding on so tightly to him, something he couldn't've even expressed if he'd been asked prior to this, but fuck, it was nice. For a while he idly ran his fingertips along Karkat's grubscars again, on one side, but all too soon needed both hands to keep Karkat steady as he picked up the pace.

"Fuck," Dave panted. "Fuck, you're so good."

“And you're fucking corny, yet you still don't have enough ears to hear how ridiculous you sound.” Okay, the puns were stupid, but that one was just too easy.

Karkat was fine through the false starts and the first few real thrusts and was definitely enjoying himself. After that, however, it was uncomfortable at first and then went straight to outright painful. He held up his hands, wincing. “Fuck! Ow, stop stop stop, uh, Howie Mandel.” He groaned; he was reasonably sure Dave had accidentally hit his seedflap and it was... not pleasant. Human dicks were stupidly poke-y, goddamn.

"Fuck, I'm sorry." Dave immediately stopped, as if he'd nearly avoided being hit by a car. He pulled out and sat back on the bed, with one hand extended to rest tentatively on Karkat's knee. "Jesus, dude, you okay?"

“I'm fine, just. Hoo boy. That was, uh, a learning experience?” Karkat said quietly, after a pause. He wasn't going to give up attempts to pail yet, but he'd need a minute to recover and make a new plan of attack. Or, shit, game plan—that sounded way less violent and seedflap-stabby.

"Dude, Karkat, I'm so fucking sorry." Dave lay down at Karkat’s side and put his head on Karkat's shoulder. "I thought it was working out, I didn't.... That was exactly what I didn't want to happen."

He curled his arm across Karkat's chest and tried to focus on lying still and just breathing.

Karkat reached over and papped Dave's cheek. "It's fine! I wanted you to fucking... do everything you did, and it's not like you came into this planning on hurting me, and you stopped when I said. It's okay, Dave."

Ughhh, what the fuck though, his nook still felt vaguely like a meat tenderizer had been taken to it. He crossed his legs and made a face. "Apparently enthusiasm doesn't solve all the world's problems. Hm. If it's any consolation, though, I still like your mammal... stuff. I haven't been scarred by dong."

Dave stayed quiet for a long moment and hid his face against Karkat's neck. "Okay."

His pulse was still racing, now from a miserable mixture of arousal, guilt, and his attempts to force himself to calm down. Wryly, he thought that he felt like some kind of uprising at a Catholic church.

He reached for Karkat's hand and held it. "I feel really fucking bad about it, man."

Karkat frowned. He hated seeing Dave upset, especially over something that wasn't his fault in the slightest, just an unfortunate anatomical setback. “It's okay, really. I'm not mad and nothing tore or is bleeding, or I think I'd be like, way less calm if it was. I basically said 'hey Dave pound my nook,' just less nasty anyway, so you did everything I asked.”

He glanced over at what little of Dave's face he could see at the angle, “You wanna, like, make out? If that'll make you feel worse you don't have to, but I have never felt bad about making out with you, and it might help?”

Dave took a deep breath and sighed, in an effort to relax. "Yeah. I dunno. I need to just like, snap out of it, or I'm just gonna sit here and be a fucking mopey-ass piece of shit." He knew he wasn't using very kind phrasing towards himself and that made him even more frustrated.

He pushed himself up on one elbow, and smiled at Karkat. "You just being you helps. Fuckin' gay, I know."

With utmost fondness, Dave reached out to brush Karkat's messy fucking hair away from his forehead, then moved back in to kiss him softly.

Karkat smiled into the kiss and reached up to cup the back of Dave's head. In what was a more playful gesture than an attempt to be sexy, he lightly nipped Dave's bottom lip. After a moment, he pulled back and made a point of looking Dave in the eyes. “You're not a mopey piece of shit, you turdnugget. And _anyway,_ even if you were a mopey piece of shit, you could be my mopey piece of shit and I would still l—uh, like you a fuck of a lot. I would put up with your emo soul searching bullshit, man.”

That was probably weird and possessive, fuck. It was Karkat's turn to hide his face in Dave's shoulder, turning kind of a splotchy red down to his neck. Blar, romantic speeches never seemed to come out quite the way he wanted.

Dave straight up hugged him.

"Dude, okay, but earlier we decided I was literally shit. Actual hand to god shit, shitting it up." He laughed, and squeezed Karkat maybe a bit too hard. "It's come full circle. The circle of poo. Where's fuckin' Mr. Hankey when you need him? Or… Bono."

“Well, you're not mopey, anyway, so there,” Karkat grumbled under his breath, “Poop status notwithstanding.”

Dave's references mostly flew over his head, but the hugging was definitely nice, if a little tight. Phew, okay, awesome, Dave wasn't creeped out by Karkat's Big Feelings Outburst and actually seemed to appreciate it. Thank fuck.

Dave eased up on the hugging, and kissed Karkat's forehead. He was so past pretending. They were comfortable as hell, semi-failed sex or not, and he was cool with where he was at.

On second thought, though. "Hey, did you want me to get you some water? I'm thirsty, and not just for bug juice."

Dave was not proud of himself. Well, maybe.

Yes, he was.

Karkat rolled his eyes. "You're fucking nasty," he said fondly, sitting back up so he could scoot over to a mostly-not damp spot on the bed, and crossed his legs.

"Water would be nice, yeah, I'll probably shrivel up and turn into a husk soonish otherwise." Dehydration was a serious concern when fucking, given that trolls quite literally came buckets. The bug juice had to come from somewhere.

Dave sat up, too, and stretched his arms out in front of him. He hadn't expected how hard sex was going to be on his wrists, but there it was.

"Okay, yeah. I'm gonna go grab some water and maybe some stuff from my room. You should probably turn off the DVD player, I guess?" He shrugged. "Or I can do it on my way out. I dunno. I'm thinking it's wasting power but I have no fucking clue how we generate electricity on this thing in the first place so maybe it doesn't matter."

He realized he was rambling, and stopped. Dave patted Karkat's knee in a way he hoped didn't come off as condescending, and got off the bed. His own pajama pants were gross. Karkat's pants were gross. He chewed his lip in thought, and glanced to Karkat's dresser, at the foot of the bed. "Can I borrow some pants?"

"Yeah, go ahead. The pants are going to look fucking ridiculous on you, though, so walk fast, lest you endure the mocking of... well, shit, pretty much everyone else on the meteor."

Karkat glanced around, grimacing. They had made one fuck of a mess. Karkat's pants were probably all sticky on the crotch, and he knew at least the leg of Dave's were gooey. He was going to just avoid looking at the damn couch for a little while. Considering the state of the concupiscent platform, it couldn't be pretty.

Dave pulled the drawer out and chose a plain-ish pair of black jeans that looked like they'd fit. Even though he could read Alternian letters, it didn't mean he had a quick reference for what troll sizing meant. He was a fucking American; he still had trouble with metric if it wasn't in the context of a 'metric fuckton'.

There was something intimate about wearing your friend's clothes. There was also something incredibly stupid about wearing your friend's clothes. Dave wished he had a belt.

"If they don't want to bear witness to my striding, that's their own damn fault." He shrugged, and gestured with one open palm; his other hand was busy keeping the jeans from sliding too far down on his hips. They were just a bit too wide. "There's no accounting for poor taste, am I right?"

Karkat snickered, "I dunno, dude, I don't think even you can pull off the my-pants-are-falling-down dance. It is not an elegant dance." He should probably start keeping a pair of Dave-sized pants in his dresser, if they were going to be doing this often. And vice versa; Karkat was pretty sure he wouldn't be able to get Dave's pants over his ass in the event he needed to wear a pair.

"I will say, if they saw you and you weren't trying to keep the pants up with the power of shimmy, that it wouldn't be a totally unappealing sight. If they laugh then, that might just be their poor taste."

"So only partially unappealing?" He stuck his tongue out at Karkat. "I aim to be as mediocre as possible."

His own shirt was very much still wearable, so he put the pajama top back on. Obviously, the outfit had become mismatched, but he only needed it to work for five minutes. He put his shoes back on without putting on his socks and made a face at the way it felt. Bleh.

Dave headed for the door and grinned at Karkat. "All right. Give me a few and I'll come right back. Try not to get into a hateflirting session with yourself in the meantime."

With that, he left, and made sure the door was only open briefly to let him pass. Nobody needed clowns catching a random eyeful of their junk.

Karkat rolled his eyes at the hateflirting comment, but let Dave leave without mentioning it. Otherwise, they'd get into the Great Comeback War and Karkat really would shrivel up before he got any water.

Once the door was shut and he could be sure he wouldn't flash anyone, he got up and turned the DVD player off. It didn't make any sense to leave it running, even if electricity wasn't really being wasted. The meteor was a fucking mystery.

Briefly, he considered putting some pants on, but he did still want to pail, just in a different and hopefully more successful position than last time. That left Karkat to sit on the bed and wait. Should he pose? Pose and pretend it wasn't a pose? After a short internal debate, he decided poses were fucking stupid and that it was best to just keep sitting on the bed like he had been.

Dave took slightly longer than five minutes, but returned with a SPORTS water bottle in hand. He closed the door behind him and grinned at Karkat. "You know I spent all that time trying to come up with something witty to say when I got back, and couldn't come up with jack fucking shit."

He sat down on the edge of the bed and kicked his shoes off, then handed the water bottle to Karkat. "Quench your thirst, my friend."

Karkat took the bottle and downed a good third of the water before surfacing for air. Hydration never felt so good. "Thanks."

He put the water bottle down in his lap and glanced over to Dave, "So, I'm gonna try not to do the overthinking thing again, but I think that the position may really have been the issue with why our bits didn't exactly, err, _mesh_."

Dave took a small plastic bottle out of the pocket of his jeans—which were really Karkat's jeans—and set it on the bed. "I dunno if this was an issue either but I totally have a secret stash of lube I use for my own nefarious purposes, so." He shrugged. "If it helps?"

He pulled the pajama top off and let it drop to the floor, then pushed the jeans off his hips without undoing the button or zipper. After he'd toed off his shoes he made himself comfortable on the bed and made grabby hands for the water bottle. "You wanna try getting on top of me, then?"

Karkat handed Dave the water bottle and shrugged. “Sure, dude, that's kind of what I was thinking. Figure I can like, I dunno, control more? Not that I'm trying to dominate you or something but, like, I can tell when we're getting too close to my seedflap.”

Oh man, he was totally the fucking master of dirty talk. Discussions about bits of anatomy were totally sexy. He glanced at the lube and raised an eyebrow. “Alright, it'd probably make sense for you to lube up a little, then? And, uh, do you want to finish off the water before I get on top of you or is choking during sex your fetish?”

Karkat handed Dave the water bottle and shrugged. “Sure, dude, that's kind of what I was thinking. Figure I can like, I dunno, control more? Not that I'm trying to dominate you or something but, like, I can tell when we're getting too close to my seedflap.”

Oh man, he was totally the fucking master of dirty talk. Discussions about bits of anatomy were totally sexy. He glanced at the lube and raised an eyebrow. “Alright, it'd probably make sense for you to lube up a little, then? And, uh, do you want to finish off the water before I get on top of you or is choking during sex your fetish?”

Dave took a few generous sips from the water bottle, but decided to help out his future self by leaving plenty remaining for later. He closed it tightly and set it on the bed, and grabbed the lube. "That works for me."

He poured some lubricant onto his fingers and stroked it onto his dick. That was always fuckin' nice; regular jackoffs never seemed worth using any lube with, but hell if this wasn't a special occasion. He let his head fall back onto a pillow and raised an eyebrow at Karkat. "Are you asking if I have a kink for _drowning_ during sex?"

“No! Well, okay, technically I guess I was, but I wasn't going to fuck you while you were drinking and you still had the water!” Karkat huffed indignantly and crossed his arms, “I wouldn't let you drown, though, I'd at least make you cough the water up somehow. Give me some credit.”

He swung a leg over so he was straddling Dave's thighs and watched him jerk himself off for a few moments. “I'm not gonna stick it in right away, I need to get my bulge out again and get used to the thrusty-type shit. It's weird.” Weird, yeah. But hot.

"Should I start making Baywatch jokes?" Dave asked. He moved his hand to let Karkat get settled. "You want me to Hassel your Hoff? Yasmine your Bleeth?"

Dave suddenly knew what Karkat had gone through trying to watch what Dave was up to, earlier. If he lifted his head he got a shitty view and strained his neck. If he _didn't_ , he got to look at Karkat's face—which was just fine!—and have zero view of the action. Welp.

"It's all pretty fuckin' weird if you get down to it, but I... like watching your bulge slide out and all that, so."

Okay. He was gonna sit up long enough to see that much.

“What the fuck, don't Hassel my anything.” Karkat fixed Dave with his best glare before looking back down and positioning himself above Dave's dick. Aaaaaand, fuck, okay, now his hips were in the way and he couldn't fucking see what he was doing. Awesome.

“Okay, how about instead of chatting about frankly kind of shitty actors who got culled for perfectly good reasons, let's fucking, just. Let's fuck.” It took a few tries to get his hips lined up, and he had to lean over to actually see what the hell he was doing, but eventually he managed to get it so that he was grinding his nook against Dave's dick. Fuck yeah, that was nice.

"Whoa, what? The Hoff got killed?" Dave lifted his hips to grind right back against Karkat, and let his hands rest on Karkat's thighs. "What the fuck kind of reason do you execute David fucking Hasselhoff for?"

Karkat was wet and slick and perfect and Dave didn't know how he felt about discussions of Alternian genocide, but, y'know. Here they were.

"Yours wasn't culled?" Karkat sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. Ughhh, this was absolutely the least sexy thing they could possibly be talking about, so of course that would be the topic of choice. He briefly considered either not talking about it or not fucking, but god dammit, he wasn't a quitter.

"He, after the Baywatch shit, like..." He stopped moving for a minute as his bulge unsheathed and started to curl in on itself. After a pause, he stroked his bulge for a few moments and started rolling his hips against Dave with greater enthusiasm.

"Fuck, where was I? Uh, he was in some stupid cartoon that was supposed to make fun of the Condesce and he got culled. He kind of deserved it, even if his role was only minor."

Dave ran his fingertips up and down Karkat's thighs, listening, and stared at the ceiling in thought. What the fuck cartoons had human Hasselhoff been in? Was there some troll thing he wasn't aware of that had taken off in Troll-Hoff's career?

Slow realization crept into his expression. "Dude, fucking. You mean fucking Spongebob Squarepants?"

"You had that, too?" Fucking Spongebob. Karkat nodded, "Yeah, I mean Spongebob Squarepants. It was like... this wiggler's show, or at least it pretended to be, but it was all about overthrowing the fucking Condesce and how shitty her regime was or whatever. It got cancelled pretty quick and all participants were culled, but it was already too popular to completely erase."

He let his hands rest on Dave's hips. "Can you move a little? Not super hard or fast, but kind of counterpoint to me or something?"

"Whaaaaat." Dave lifted his hips like Karkat asked, and tried to get into some kind of rhythm, but it was way trickier to stay consistent with his movements than he ever would've expected. "So Patchy the Pirate was... what, some kind of cerulean... something? With a squawkbeast, or?"

Karkat made a pleased sound and gripped Dave's hips a little tighter for more purchase. The rhythm was slightly off, with both of them moving, but fuck it. Literally.

"No, dude, the squawkbeast was his lusus and he was olive or jade, maybe? I don't remember it exactly, besides that the little green dude was the Condesce and it pissed her the fuck off. It was supposed to relate to everyone, so they cast a midblood." That happened a lot with shows geared towards landdwellers, actually.

Dave let out a deep breath and kept his hips moving; heat settled into the pit of his stomach. With the way Karkat was situated, his dick was frotting right between the folds of his nook, like it'd been when their positions were reversed, but with more weight. This was surprisingly satisfying.

"So they're saying she's one percent evil, and ninety-nine percent hot gas, then." He snorted. "That's fuckin' awesome. What's, uh. What's the deal with the main cast?"

Karkat shrugged. “Uhhh, I think Spongebob and his friends were all rebels against the Condesce? Underneath the fart jokes there was a lot of stuff showing how they could function without her rule and how her system of ruling was fundamentally flawed. I mean, there's a reason it got cancelled.”

He paused to focus on grinding against Dave without any fucking cartoon talk for a moment before continuing. “Squidward was supposed to represent Gl'bgolyb, I'm pretty sure.” Details were hard to remember during fucking, okay. He couldn't be expected to be completely certain.

"So the Krusty Krab training video's got all sorts of secret hidden messages and shit? Coded rebel communications?" He braced his shoulders against the mattress and pushed up harder against Karkat. "And so Squidward... is, uh, the lusus who’s a planted agent of the empire, carrying out his duties from day to day, but gathering intel until he discovers that nah, he actually loves Krabby Patties and becomes loyal to the insurrection?"

Karkat rolled his eyes, “I wouldn't say ‘loyal,' necessarily. In the season finale, he plays his clarinet—which is supposed to represent the Vast Glub, if I remember right—and kills everyone in Bikini Bottom. They basically bribed him with food until then—fuck, do that again.”

He kind of wondered what the fuck human Spongebob was like, if not broadcasting a secret political agenda. Not enough to ask about it during sex and go off on yet another goddamn tangent, but he made a mental note to compare cartoons.

"Human Hasselhoff is easily bribed by food, too," Dave pointed out. "Or uh, was."

Dave dug his fingertips into Karkat's thighs and pressed up against his nook again, harder than before. His whole body felt warm, his face was flushed, and this was incredibly stupid. "Dude, I'm so fucking close and all I can think about is Squidward's fucking laugh."

Karkat grinned. “You mean the thing where his nose scrunches up when he breathes in? That laugh? You wanted to talk about Spongebob, dude. There's no escape now.”

He slowed down the movement of his hips; he was definitely enjoying himself, but he wasn't as close as Dave was quite yet and didn't want to be done so soon.“I cannot fucking believe this. Fucking... Squidward. God. His laugh is the most annoying thing in the world.”

"God, I fucking _know_." Dave made a frustrated noise and pushed insistently, his breath coming in short gasps. "Fuckin', you're gonna make me come, and I'm gonna fuckin' blow my load while that shitty fucking nasal laugh is stuck in my head."

When Karkat stopped moving, Dave lifted his head to make eye contact with him. "C'mon, man. We're in this together. We started out in The Kuddly Krab, headed to Make-Out Reef, you took me through Tentacle Acres and I'm headed for fuckin' Goo Lagoon. Don't leave me hanging."

Karkat raised his eyebrows. Tentacle Acres. Jesus fucking christ. “No, man, we have plans and shit, and do you really want to come with the image of Squidward's horrible 2D face fresh in your mind? Do you _really??_ I'm not letting his horrific laugh tarnish this experience.”

He papped Dave's chest in a consoling gesture. “Besides, I still want to try riding you and I'm not gonna do that if you fucking... goo lagoon inside of me in point five seconds. Fuck that, dude.”

Dave let his head fall back to the pillow again and exhaled in a frustrated snort. "Yeah, okay. You're gonna need to build a Mega Bucket for my Goo Lagoon, anyway."

He could feel his pulse in his dick. Fuck. Dave shut his eyes and took several deep, slow breaths. "God. Fuckin'. Chum Bucket. That shit had to go over so well with Fish Hitler."

A horrified expression briefly crossed Karkat's face. “What the fuck, you don't even fill buckets. That's fucking nasty, dude, and I think you're completely full of shit.” Unless... humans needed that much to make their terrible parasite babies? Unlikely, but. Ew.

“Well, yeah, it was supposed to piss her off, just like the episode where she finds out the fucking burgers are Grade-A, one hundred percent Imperial Condescension.” He scooted back off Dave's hips and rubbed his bulge, letting it curl between his fingers. Dave needed some cool down time.

Dave sat up, laughing. "I'd pay a lot of boonbucks to see the look on her face."

He sat quietly and waited for his body to calm down a bit. Watching Karkat touch himself was fucking hot, anyway. "So... you ever notice, like. This only just occurred to me, but Squidward has the same nose as a smuppet. Jutting proboscis shit."

Karkat regretted touching himself, now, if only because that meant he was touching himself to Squidward and smuppet noses. “Oh my god, this is the least sexy thing we could be possibly fucking talking about. I don't think something less sexy than this exists, and to be honest I'm kind of surprised my bulge hasn't fallen off and walked away in shame by this point.”

"I thought it was your globes that were shameful, or am I getting my troll junk terminology wrong again?"

Oh man, gross. “Your terminology's right, but are you suggesting my fucking shame globes crawl out of my body and free themselves? You sicko.” Thaaaat was... probably grosser than Dave's original statement. Maybe Karkat was the sicko.

Dave opened his mouth to say something, closed his mouth, and pursed his lips. "Uh. You know what? You got me. I have nothing clever to say to that. That's really gross."

He gestured to his crotch and shot Karkat an amused look. "If the goal was to get me to lose my boner, congrats, bro."

Karkat frowned. Well, uh, at least he'd sort of got Dave to calm down, if maybe a bit too much. Next time, he would keep the gross jokes about his anatomy to a minimum, that shit was just straight up nasty. “Shit, sorry, that was kind of fucking disgusting. ...At least it kind of achieved the goal? Do you want me to ride you or something again?”

"Yes. Hell yes." Dave leaned forward and slid his hand up along Karkat's thigh to tease near his nook. "Does Barack Obama want to fix the economy, strengthen infrastructure, and reduce student loan debt? Fuck yeah."

“This is going to lead to something worse than Squidward, I can feel it,” Karkat warned, scooting forward and leaning over to kiss Dave. He wrapped his arms around Dave's shoulders, smiling into the kiss. Kissing was probably his top favorite romantic activity, and it kept them from going back to bizarre tangents and killing Dave's boner again. That was always a plus.

Dave reached out to his side with his free hand to grab the bottle of lube, and poured more onto his fingers. With Karkat's hand out of the way, he had plenty of room to maneuver. He kissed him back, gentle and slow, and ran his fingertips down from the underside of Karkat's bulge to the entrance of his nook.

"The lube's not making you itch or anything, right? No allergic reaction to alien marital aids?"

“No, I'm good. Go ahead.” Karkat hadn't even considered that he could have an allergic reaction to the lube. Thank fuck he hadn't. He rested his head in the crook of Dave's neck, leaving a few light kisses there.

He pushed his hips forward into the touch. Dave's boner may have been killed, but Karkat's certainly wasn't and he definitely wasn't going to object to Dave touching him. Hell yeah.

"Okay, cool." Dave tilted his head to allow Karkat access to his neck. He slid his middle finger up into Karkat's nook and pumped it in and out, carefully. Between that and the neck-kisses, it didn't take much for him to get hard again. "God, I fucking want you."

Karkat leaned back to look Dave properly in the eyes. “Shit, I want you too. I just... god, Dave. I like you so fucking much, it's ridiculous.” He ground his hips down against Dave's hand, breath coming quick and short. “You're great, you know? Fuck, I can't think, all my fucking pan is in my nook right now but just fucking. This is really goddamn nice.”

"Good." Dave added his index finger, too, and curled them in to lightly stroke the inside of his nook on the downswing. He pressed the heel of his palm against Karkat's bulge and rocked his hand back and forth. "Let me do you a solid, then."

He'd been doing his best to keep his Sexy Face going—whatever that was—but with the praise and with Karkat staring into his eyes, Dave started to grin and couldn't stop. "Um, thank you, I guess, for thinking I'm great." He laughed at his own expense. "Great at handjobs, right?"

Karkat laughed and smiled back at Dave. “Okay, that's also true, but I was trying to say you're great in general, you doof.”

He was getting kind of close, god. Karkat made a concentrated effort to stop rocking against Dave's hand, groaning under his breath. “Do you still want me to ride you? Because, ah, I would really like that if you're game. But this is fucking excellent too; you are definitely good at handjobs. I could totally come like this if that's what you want.”

Dave lowered his gaze and smiled. "Thanks, dude. Thanks for saying so."

Although he was reluctant to stop, Dave pulled his hand away to rest on Karkat's hip. "Ever since the uh, the first time we did... shit, I have kinda wanted to get you off. Like. Always." He ran his hand up Karkat's side, his fingertips tracing over the grubscars. "I want you to feel good, so if you don't think it's gonna hurt you to get on top of me, then yeah. I'd fuckin' love that."

“Yeah, of course,” Karkat leaned forward to kiss Dave's cheek. “I think we're good, 'cause like I said earlier I can control how far your, uh, how far in it goes? I think that was the whole issue last time. It'll be fine.”

He sighed happily when Dave touched his grubscars and ran his own hands down Dave's sides. It probably wasn't super thrilling or anything, since there weren't any noticeable features there, but quite fucking frankly it was nice just to touch him. “You'll have to lie back down again, though.”

Dave was feeling fucking sappy again, but he was done with beating himself up for it. He liked having Karkat's hands on him. He liked being gentle. He liked being here. Why was that such a federal fucking issue? Obama owed him a presidential pardon, or... fuckin'. Something.

"Can do. Just tell me if something's not working." Dave lay back and tried not to get too nervous. It’d been fine until now, right? It’d be fine.

Karkat settled himself over Dave's dick, running into the same problem of not being able to fucking see what he was doing as before. He couldn't just impale himself, and aiming was not easy. “Um. Shit, this is harder than it looks? I can't see fucking shit. Let me just... fuck, okay, hang on. I'm gonna like, hold you still so I can do this without hurting one of us.”

Not that Dave's dick was actually moving, but that didn't make it any easier to aim.

Dave lifted himself up, bracing his weight on his elbows. "You can touch me, dude. You can grab my dick and do what you gotta."

He glanced from Karkat's face down to his bulge, then to where he'd gotten plenty hard again, and back to Karkat's face. "Do you need me to... do something specifically?"

“I think I've got it. I've just gotta be able to fucking see what I'm doing. Now I see why you had issues the other way around, holy fuck.” He leaned forward, taking Dave's dick lightly in hand and holding it steady as he slowly lowered himself onto it. Thank fuck it worked, otherwise he might've accidentally bent Dave's dick in half or something. Terrible.

As it was, it felt pretty good. And so far, even though he wasn't quite flush with Dave's hips yet, it seemed to be going well. “Okay. We good?”

Dave let his eyes fall closed for a brief moment, and let out a quiet, needy sound. It was too tempting to _not_ look, though, so he quickly returned to watching Karkat slide down onto his dick. "Holy fuck, we are so good."

It took everything in him to hold his hips still, but he refused to rush Karkat whatsoever. He reached to take Karkat's free hand in his own and laced their fingers together, and watched the slight changes in Karkat's expression for any indication of discomfort.

Karkat leaned forward and kissed Dave, moaning softly into his mouth. Fucking god, this was great. He lowered his hips a little more, because holding himself up just by bracing his legs wasn't exactly the most comfortable thing in the world, and sighed happily.

Maybe it was just the angle that fucked them over last time. Karkat reached up and cupped Dave's face, making contented sounds every so often. "We're good, but oh my fucking god, Dave, you are _good_."

Dave brought his knees up as much as he could without shifting Karkat excessively. He gently laid his hands on Karkat's shoulders and urged him to move with him as he leaned back on the bed.

With his head on the pillow, he stared at Karkat's chest for an awkward moment; all he could hear was their breathing, and the all-too-embarrassing sound of himself swallowing more frequently than was strictly necessary. He clenched his jaw, lifted his gaze to meet Karkat's, and slid his arms fully around Karkat's back to hold him.

Karkat smiled when Dave looked him in the eyes, running his fingers through his hair (it was still kind of surreal that humans could have such pale hair) and sighing happily.

Rolling his hips forward and back probably... wasn't going to happen, and if it did, not much would happen by way of feeling good, he suspected. Experimentally, he moved his hips up a little and sank back down, slowly, and groaned. “Fuck, oh my god, I'm gonna try going a little faster, okay?”

Dave nodded without saying anything. He grit his teeth and blinked too often. When Karkat began to play with his hair, he drew in a sharp, shuddering breath.

"Karkat," he began, but his sentence abruptly stopped as he screwed his eyes shut and tilted up to kiss him, his lips stiff and unyielding. He kept his arms looped around Karkat's shoulders, and even aside from the makeouts, he was having trouble breathing easily.

Karkat leaned back from the kiss, in part because it kind of sucked but mostly because Dave sounded hurt. He stopped moving his hips altogether, searching Dave's expression for any hint of pain and—oh. His throat felt kind of tight when he realized what was going on.

“Fuck, Dave,” he said softly, tilting his chin up a little so he could press a kiss to each of Dave's eyelids. “Do you need me to stop? It's okay if I need to.” Karkat paused and cleared his throat. “I got you.”

Dave shook his head. "I'm okay, I'm okay." He let out a shaky breath and hid his face against Karkat's neck, holding him tightly. He tried to get his heart rate, his breathing, his stupid fucking bullshit reaction under control, but the 'I got you' would not leave his thoughts.

"I'm sorry," he murmured, his voice muffled. "You didn't do anything, it's my fuckin' shit. Don't worry about it."

He ran his hands in small circles on Karkat's shoulder blades, and inhaled erratically several more times.

Karkat frowned, reaching up to run his fingers through Dave's hair again. “Dave, it's fine, you're allowed to get worked up, fuck knows I do all the damn time. You don't have to apologize for shit, dude.”

He smiled a little. “Besides, I am pretty fucking awesome at sex. It's a reasonable reaction to my unbelievable skills.” He turned his head so he could kiss the closest part of Dave, which turned out to be his hair, and shooshed him under his breath.

He still was so unaccustomed to anyone being romantically affectionate with him; Terezi had done her best, and they weren't on bad terms or anything, but it had still ended so quickly, and man, this was not a good path to go down right now.

"You _are_ fucking awesome. You're the fucking best, dude, I mean it." Dave kept his eyes closed, pressed his cheek to Karkat's and did his best not to exhale _completely_ into his ear. He ran a hand up into Karkat's hair and tugged at it lightly, repeatedly, fondly. "I'm just so fucking... grateful, that you're here with me and shit."

Karkat grinned, cheeks heating up with a blush. “Shit, uh, I'm really fucking glad to be here. I like you a whole hell of a lot, dude, and this is just... there's nothing better I could possibly be doing, like. Goddamn. I like being around you.”

The hair tugging was more pleasant than Karkat would've expected. He leaned back to kiss Dave on the forehead again. “Is it okay if I start moving again?”

"We're on the same page, then." He almost went for a Pagemaster joke, but didn't care enough to come up with something that'd tie in. Over time Dave had realized that simply stating the name of mediocre 90s movies didn't qualify as making a joke, and he'd taken that shit to heart.

"Yeah, go for it." He ran his hands down Karkat's back and lifted his hips to thrust shallowly into him. "You feel fucking incredible."

Karkat braced his hands on either side of Dave for a little more leverage and lifted his hips, moving up and down a little faster than before. _“This_ is fucking amazing. I think that like this there's less issue with your....you being more poke-y than a bulge? It's just, god, it's fucking excellent this way.”

He groaned, trying to move himself in counterpoint with Dave's thrusts. His breathing was ragged and loud, but he was enjoying himself far too much to be embarrassed about sounding stupid. Fuck that, this was fun.

Dave held his hands at Karkat's side and pressed his thumbs into his grubscars as if he was giving a massage. They were totally the troll clitoris, as far as he was concerned.

Their combined efforts had resulted in Karkat's nook dripping all the fuck over Dave's hips and thighs, with his bulge picking up the slack by making a mess on his stomach. He knew it was gonna suck to have to clean up afterward, but in the moment, it was fucking _hot_. His cock twitched, and he inhaled sharply.

"Dude, I'm not gonna lie, I'm fuckin' in love with how you look riding my dick."

Dave had never shied away from extremely explicit bullshit in hyperbolic chat sessions, but it felt very different verbalizing his thoughts in person. The pesterlogs had largely been a joke, anyway; this was a whole new circumstance.

Karkat thought about what to say for a moment. Dirty talk wasn't his forte, or at least he didn't _think_ it was, despite how heavy all his romance novels were with it. He didn't want to kill the mood with a shit metaphor, but sitting there in complete silence probably wasn't a good idea either. Hmm.

“I, uh, love riding your dick.” Yeah, fuck, okay, dirty talk was definitely not his forte. He hadn't said anything that wasn't true, sure, but he was positive he sounded anything but sexy. Fucking god, he could talk about dicks at length if he wasn't being serious, but as soon as it came to actual sex he couldn't think of shit. 

An attempt had been made. Dave tried not to laugh at Karkat's obvious hesitation. It’s the thought that counts, right?

Dave was enjoying the combined experience of hearing the soft, wet noises they were producing every time Karkat moved, the short, breathy gasps for air they'd both been reduced to, and the shifting of the sheets and mattress. Some cosmic miracle had resulted in their pheromones playing off each other appropriately. Karkat smelled fucking fantastic. Dave spent a moment trying to decide whether he'd rather fuck Karkat's nook or eat him out, and then realized it wasn't a competition.

Both. Both were good.

"I'm fuckin' into this hot mess you've got going on. I didn't know that was a thing I was into, but man. Anybody walking by seeing my sweet bod right now would be like, goddamn, Karkat Vantas showed that dude a really good time." He bucked his hips. "I'm gonna be thinking about how good you look with your alien splooge splattered on me."

He was not gonna last long like this.

Karkat's face heated up, but quite fucking honestly everything Dave was saying was kind of hot, if a little flustering. “Shit, I'm gonna show you a really fucking good time.”

He let out a long breath, moaning when Dave bucked up into him. “Honestly, holy fuck, you're showing me a great time. This is—god, you feel so fucking good.” Every time Dave moved, it was a visceral reminder that he was not a troll, and while there was no one he'd rather be doing this with, well. That was definitely turning Karkat on.

"You're gonna make me fuckin' come is what." Dave rolled his hips, careful to keep his movements shallow despite how badly he wanted to fuck into him. "I'm real fuckin' close."

He struggled to keep his breathing even, with his mouth parted slightly; he slid his hands down to sink his fingers into the spot where Karkat's upper thighs met his hips. His gut clenched, his neck felt hot, his toes flexed against the sheets. He felt _good_.

Karkat grinned, “Okay, I'm gonna go a little faster, then.” He'd been kind of looking for an excuse to speed up, because while this was doing it for him a little speed couldn't hurt, and this was a great opportunity. He steadied himself a little and picked up the pace.

"Fuck, fuck, I'm close too." In an attempt to show off a little, he sank back down too fast and hit his seedflap in the exact same way he had earlier. "Shit!" He winced visibly and froze for a second, taking a few deep breaths. His nook felt like fucking... dong apocalypse or some shit, jesus christ.

"Oh my god, stop the ride. Ow, fuck. Mistake.” Gingerly, he scooted back off Dave's dick and rubbed his thighs a little, looking back up at Dave with a sheepish expression on his face.

“I... can't believe I just did that. I'm so fucking sorry.”

"Ah, fuck. _Fuck_." Dave's breaths were desperate from exertion, his chest rising and falling rapidly. He dropped his hands to the mattress and dug his fingers into the sheets. "Fuck. Hold on."

He'd been so close. He felt his pulse in his dick as it curved up towards his stomach, and tried to think about anything else so he wouldn't accidentally come, anyway. What was there to think about? The Stay Puft Marshmallow Man?

...actually, that'd do it. That was enough to ground him for a few minutes.

"You okay man?" He stretched his legs out so Karkat could sit back more comfortably, and let out a deep, shaky sigh. "Oops, You Did It Again, huh?

Karkat rubbed the back of his neck and sighed. “I'm okay, I just. Bleh, it hurts but I'm still fucking turned on, which is... weird.” He wasn't so sure he wanted to try dick-in-nook again, either, but he definitely wanted to get off some time in the near future.

“I'm opening the floor for suggestions with regards to how we get off here, because we've put enough damn effort into this not to get anything out of it.” Karkat's bulge, which had retracted completely the last time he'd managed to hurt himself, was still curling against his thighs and leaving a trail of genetic material. Relentless.

Dave was still trying to reach an agreement with his lungs. He looked up at Karkat's face, then down to his bulge, and finally over to his side at the bottle of lube he'd brought back with him. It was a conclusion he'd already reached when he decided to nab it from his bedroom in the first place, but he hadn't been sure that they'd last that long.

Yet here they were. Clearly, fucking fate.

"So, lucky for you, I prepared for Plan B." Dave grabbed for the bottle and held it up for Karkat to appreciate, which he _should_. "'B' for 'yiff my hott butt', obviously." He emphasized his pronunciation of the second 't'.

Karkat raised his eyebrows. “Well, uh, hm.” It wasn't like he hadn't _thought_ about Dave yiffing himself or whatever, but he hadn't really thought about being the one doing the actual yiffing. It was weird, and quite fucking frankly Karkat was too young to die kinky, but. Hm.

“Did you, ah, is it clean?” That was probably the worst possible way to phrase it, but he was a little worried, alright. “Do you want me to uhhh... bite my nails or something so they're not so sharp?” Fingering was a thing, so Dave might want him to. Karkat figured it might be a way to get over the kneejerk 'ew' reaction before he got to the 'sticking it in' part, at least.

Dave reached over to grab the SPORTS bottle, too. He sat up enough to chug some water; sex was exhausting. When he'd had enough, he offered the rest to Karkat and nodded.

"Yeah. When I went back to my room I washed up, just in case." He gave Karkat a skeptical, amused look. "And there's no way in fucking hell I'm letting you put your nails, bitten or not, up my ass." Especially not bitten nails. That sounded like a terrible idea, not that Dave didn't appreciate the offer in theory. "Your bulge, though? Your bulge belongs in my ass. Just sayin'."

Karkat finished off the water and leaned over to put the bottle back down. “Okay, I'm going to be completely honest—I was really hoping you wouldn't want me to bite my nails.” Not only because they'd be frayed and painful, but a troll's sharp nails were one of their last means of defense, after teeth. And, well, Karkat's teeth were sharp, but not _that_ sharp. He'd consider having Kanaya file his nails down if the butt thing became a regular occurrence, though. She'd started filing hers down after she and Rose got together for some reason, so she'd at least be good at it in the event he decided to have them trimmed.

“Is it gonna be alright if I just go for it, then? You won't get hurt if I put my bulge up your ass? Or were you gonna, like... have me watch?” He didn't want Dave sticking his dick in his nook just straight away, so he assumed it was the same the other way around too. Not that he'd mind watching, though, even if it was kind of fucking weird.

Dave made himself comfortable and clicked open the cap to pour a generous amount of lube onto his fingers. With the environment he'd been raised in, he'd known intuitively that it was never a good idea to shove anything up your ass without being goddamn careful about it. It avoided awkward trips to the emergency room, for one, and secondly, showed a decent level of respect towards highlighters and other office supplies. Dave didn't fuck around when it came to the health and integrity of his butt. He knew that some people ( _Rose_ ) probably had mixed feelings on whether or not smuppets should be involved in any sort of sex ed, but he'd at least been taught how to keep from injuring himself and to generally avoid doing anything stupid with his body parts.

As such, he knew that even with how wet Karkat's bulge got, it wasn't a bad idea to lube himself up, anyway. Ounce of prevention, and all that. If it took more than an ounce, well. The bottle was not infinite, but he didn't need that much, either.

“You can watch me, to start.” He parted his thighs and lifted his ass off the bed, to gently finger himself. It was the first time he'd had an audience, which was intimidating, but he also knew Karkat wasn't going to give him a hard time for it. "You should, uh. Do you still have a bucket in here?" he asked.

They really needed to start getting their shit together before they began making out, damn. Or maybe Karkat needed a bedroom that had a bathroom attached.

Karkat made a face. They almost forgot the fucking _bucket,_ jesus christ. They were the masters of planning ahead, truly. “Yeah, I've still got it. I'm not going to get rid of something key to keeping my entire block from turning into, ugh, goo lagoon. One second.” He wanted to watch Dave, yeah, but a bucket was kind of imperative here.

Leaning over the side of the mattress, he fished around until he could feel the edge of the bucket and pulled it from underneath the bed with a flourish. “Voilà!”

There was still a little bit of an 'ew, gross' reaction when Karkat thought too much about doing Dave up the butt, but watching him finger himself was, well. It was really fucking hot.

"God. Goo lagoon is never gonna stop being funny."

Dave worked one finger into himself, slowly, gradually relaxing. It was tough to keep his body from tensing while Karkat was following his every movement, but with the look he was getting, he wasn't about to stop his efforts. He closed his eyes and slid his finger in and out, his forearm taut across his dick, his breath catching.

"Dude," he sighed, laughing, "I cannot even believe how much I want you to fuck me."

Karkat flushed and let out a shaky breath. “I really fucking want to pail you, oh my god. You are so _fucking_ hot.” He had to stop himself from reaching down to touch his bulge; with the way they'd been going at it, it wasn't likely he'd last very long in the first place.

“Goo lagoon is horrible and stupid and I can't stop snickering over it like a goddamn douchebag.” He rested his hands on the rim of the bucket, focusing on the cool metal against his palms rather than on how badly he'd like to be the one fingering Dave. Filing his nails definitely needed to be considered.

Dave let out a frustrated noise and pulled his hand away. He was extremely ready and extremely impatient.

"So let's use your bucket, chum."

He rolled over and got onto his knees, using a pillow to support his chest. He spread his legs widely enough that he figured Karkat could put the bucket between his calves, if he wanted. Dave had no idea how practical that'd turn out to be, or not.

It took everything in him not to reach down and jack off.

Karkat, figuring it'd make it harder to miss the bucket and come all over the bed, put the bucket between Dave's legs and scooted forward, letting his hands rest lightly on Dave's hips. “Can you hold that up between your legs? I don't want to make a bigger mess than I already have. Pretty soon I'll have genetic material on quite literally every available surface of my block—henceforth this will be known as the fuckpocalypse. No one survives.”

He paused for a moment to do a little strategy planning. _Okay,_ so he needed to just... kind of stick it in? Humans did this all the time, apparently, so maybe the thrusting movements Dave had been using earlier would work better.

Karkat positioned himself, using one hand to keep his bulge from curling in on itself so much and the other to hold himself steady. “Is it okay if I, uh, if I put it in? You ready?”

Dave nodded against the pillow and did his best to hold the bucket steady between his knees. It was cold and unpleasant, but it got him thinking again about having to hold it under his chin during their first experience. These were good thoughts to have.

"Dude, I've been jerking it to this idea ever since we hooked up, and... probably since before I even knew what you had down there." He tried to look back at Karkat but couldn't really turn his neck without it being awkward. "So... yeah. Go for it."

Karkat felt kind of ridiculous for being flustered over that comment about fantasies when he was just about to stick his bulge in Dave's ass, but oh well. It was fucking flattering, okay, he was allowed to be a little bit flustered if he wanted.

“Alright, here goes.” Aiming was surprisingly easy in this position, at least, so there was no seesawing or too much leaning over to see which bits where going where, so after only a few seconds of preamble Karkat thrust his hips forward. And, fucking incredible, his bulge just kind of... slid between Dave's asscheeks. Amazing. “Fuck, um, hang on.” It was probably just a positioning thing, he figured, so he scooted back and rolled his hips forward. Once again, little more was achieved besides some frottage, which was nice and all, but... Hm. 

Nobody had ever rimmed Dave—although maybe that could change, now—but he had a feeling that maybe this was what it was like. At least, this is what it'd be if whoever was rimming him kept twisting their head in unexpected, weird ways. It felt good, but he’d half-lost his boner.

"Do you want me to do it?" he asked. "Just kinda... get it started, I guess, and then push. If that makes sense."

It was an ordeal with toys sometimes, but they held still, at least.

Karkat made a face. “How are you going to actually get it started, though? We can resort to that in the event I can't figure it out. I got this, I think I just need to change my tactics since obviously this isn't going to work? I could just, uh, try doing it how I probably would with a troll and if that doesn't work, I will let you manhandle my bulge.” Not that Dave touching his bulge was in any way a bad thing, though.

Thrusting wasn't exactly up Karkat's alley in the first place, so he figured maybe if he just tried to aim and then let his bulge do its thing, it might be more successful. He could thrust once they got started if Dave really wanted him to. (Though his bulge wasn't exactly massive; he might accidentally pull out, but he could at least try).

"Fuckin'... The only phrase that comes to mind is 'feed it in slowly' and that is not the sort of wording I ever thought I'd use while getting laid." Spongebob references got a pass. A sentence that sounded like either instructions for a fax machine or some B-grade body horror scene, not so much.

He'd been so ready. He'd been so ready for Karkat to pound his ass or, uh. Whatever was gonna happen there, and now they'd once again run into a hurdle. Run into it and faceplanted on the track, even. Somebody was calling for medical assistance.

Dave shifted his weight to keep his knees comfortable and waited for Karkat to figure it out.

“I'm actually kind of surprised that phrase didn't make my bulge retract instantaneously, honestly.” That was a lie. Almost nothing would turn him off at this point, probably. Karkat stroked his bulge a couple of times and positioned himself again, pushing just a little to get the tip in to start, well. Feeding it in. Ugh, even if it didn't entirely kill the mood, that phrase was really fucking not dirty talk. At least the method seemed to be working, even if the term was less than stellar. Success!

He had to make sure that Dave was okay, though. It was unlikely it hurt yet, with the tapered tip, but maybe he wasn't as big a fan of the admittedly slimy texture of bulge as Karkat was with the various weird things about dick. He wrapped a hand around the base of his bulge to keep it from moving any more and took a steadying breath. What little he had in felt fucking _awesome_.

“You good? I mean, it's probably weird, interspecies fucking is gonna be, but is it bad weird? Tell me if it starts hurting or is hurting now or shit, too, I don't want you uncomfortable or in pain. Fuck that.”

While all of Karkat's concerns were very considerate and Dave was grateful for his dutiful commitment to guaranteeing his comfort and maintaining consent, and so on and so forth, Dave was not entirely in the headspace to elaborate on it. The response he got was simple: “Yeah.”

Karkat's bulge felt amazing on Dave's side, too. Without any warning, he pushed his hips back to slide Karkat's bulge the rest of the way in. It wasn't a rough movement, but he didn't need it to be gradual, either. Everything was slick and had enough _give_ that it just felt _good_.

The bucket was cold between his legs. Karkat's body was warm behind him. Dave turned his head to the side to press his cheek to the pillow, and let out a shuddering, breathy laugh. "Ohhhh my god, dude, _fuck_."

Karkat gasped, letting out a low moan. Oh, fuck, this was way better than he could've imagined. Clearly, Dave was enjoying himself, so Karkat relaxed and rolled his hips a little. Actually thrusting just seemed jerky and uncomfortable, so that wasn't something he really wanted to try, but a little movement was nice. Either way, Dave felt incredible and Karkat wasn't sure how long he was going to last like this.

“Oh fuck, Dave, oh my god, you feel so good.” He let out a breathy chirr and moved his hands to grip Dave's hips more firmly, breath gone ragged. 

Dave's face felt hot. His entire body felt hot, actually; even the metal of the bucket was warming up a little from being next to his skin.

"God, you feel like... your dick feels like the best buttplug in the universe, except better, except fuckin' attached to somebody I—" He stopped himself, partly to gasp for air, and partly because that sort of thing was not fair to dump on Karkat mid-fuck. He gripped the pillow tight in his fist and braced his weight on his opposite elbow. "Except attached to you."

Karkat, failing to notice Dave's slip up, tossed his head to get his bangs out of his face and glanced down to make sure the bucket hadn't moved. He was getting really fucking close after all the failed attempts to fuck, and it would be absolute shit to bother with the bucket just to come all over the fucking mattress anyway.

“Shit, I—” he groaned and rolled his hips a little faster, “Fuck, I can't even, goddamn... what are words. You're so good. You're the best, I can't believe I ever threw a fit about this. The only problem I can't fucking, ugh, I can't kiss you like this. That is the only thing that could possibly make this better.”

"Fuck, _Karkat_." With his eyes closed, Dave reached behind himself to grab Karkat's hand where it was resting on his hip.

The only disappointment of this, if he could even begin to use a word like 'disappointment' in this moment, was that Karkat was not built for thrusting. The plug comparison had been apt, then; Dave backed his ass completely up against Karkat's hips and clenched around him, slightly. His dick twitched, leaking at the tip, precome beading in his foreskin.

Karkat squeezed Dave's hip, chirping a little when Dave pressed flush against him and pushing his hips forward in counterpoint. “Dave, Dave, fuck—” He gave up trying to focus on speaking English and switched back to Alternian, although he wasn't all that much more eloquent than before. “I'm so fucking close, oh my god, I just—holy shit, I'm so goddamn glad this is working.”

The Alternian was fucking hot. Dave understood him, of course—god tier bonus and all—but he still recognized it as another language, just also as one he could naturally parse. That was how all this started, wasn’t it? Motherfuckin’ Alternian language, romance novels, all that. Fitting.

Dave reluctantly let go of Karkat's hand and braced his forearms against the bed, his head ducked toward the pillow, his hair in his face. He was sweating, clammy at the back of his knees and his inner thighs. Karkat's genetic material dripped down his legs; his bulge was thick and satisfying, and even without much thrusting, it was still teasing and pressing against Dave’s prostate.

"God, _fuck!_ " He gave up trying to hold off and slipped his left hand beneath himself to stroke his cock urgently. "Fuck, Karkat. Fuck me, fuck me, _fuck me_."

Karkat pulled out a bit and snapped his hips forward, mimicking thrusting movements a little more closely, and let go of Dave's hips to run his hands along the outside of Dave's thighs. This was so good—Dave was warm and tight and he sounded _really fucking hot_ , shit. Karkat was letting out excited chirps and clicks between breaths and was finding it harder to maintain any sort of rhythm with his movements, rocking his hips erratically.

“You're so hot, fuck, you look so good right now. You sound fucking amazing too, oh my god.”

It wasn't the same as fucking himself with a dildo, but then, he hadn't expected it to be. Not even close. Karkat was wet and slick, and gratifying to grind back against. The smooth motion of his bulge slipping into his ass was everything Dave _had_ expected, and far more. Even without a human standard of thrusting, it was plenty to convince Dave to open his eyes and try to watch as Karkat rolled his hips against him.

Dave stared at his own dick as he pumped his hand over it, drawing the foreskin back and forth across the head, his grip tight around himself. Every noise Karkat made, every breathy or alien sound of pleasure bolted straight to Dave's gut. He let his mouth hang open and moaned, unashamed of riding this out, unafraid to be loud with Karkat listening.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come," he choked, almost as an aside, as commentary. "Oh fuck, _fuck_ , I'm coming."

He watched himself spurt into his fist, dribbling down the side of his hand and a few pulses landing on the bedsheets. His thighs were coated in reddish-tint genetic material. Dave continued to stroke himself, although he took the pressure off somewhat. "Don't stop," he pleaded. "Don't stop fucking me."

Karkat made a low noise in the back of his throat and tightened his grip on Dave's hips. “Fuck, fuck, I'm gonna come too.” His legs were shaking a little with the effort of holding himself up on his knees for so long. Not that he was complaining, hell fucking no. Dave was hot as shit with Karkat's bulge in him, and the loud, unashamed noises he was making were only serving to turn Karkat on even more.

He managed to last a few more seconds before coming with a loud trill, spilling into the bucket. His hip movements lessened into erratic jerking movements that Karkat continued for a few seconds after coming, until the friction and pressure got to be too much. He pulled out, breathing heavily but entirely fucking satisfied with the way things had gone. He felt pretty damn amazing all around, to be honest. There was a mess of his genetic material all down Dave's ass and thighs, even though Karkat came from his nook, but if Dave wasn't complaining then neither was Karkat.

“Oh my god,” he said quietly, shuffling over to a mostly clean spot on his mattress and flopping down. “That was goddamn awesome, holy shit, my thinkpan is fucking... it's turned into goo. Was it, uh, was it as good for you too?” He was pretty sure Dave had been having as good of a time as he had, but fuck if he wasn't going to ask anyway. 

Every spot was a wet spot. Dave resigned himself to this fact and rolled over to rest his head on Karkat's chest, one arm draped over Karkat's stomach to hold him. He squeezed him tightly for a second, then relaxed.

"I am floating on cloud nine, man. Or floating in Goo Lagoon." He stretched his legs out and felt the metal of the bucket brush against his skin. "Fuck, if we're not careful we're gonna literally float in fuckin' Goo Lagoon."

“We've pretty much already entered the fucking shallows of Goo Lagoon, at least. This platform is disgusting. I'm going to need to drink my goddamn _weight_ in water to make up for nastyass mess.” Karkat glanced down at Dave and smiled a little, carding his hand through Dave's hair.

“I need a shower. I need three showers. I don't think there's a single square inch on my body that isn't sticky.” Not that it wasn't worth it, goddamn. Relaxing like this was nice, too, as long as his afterglow lasted and he could ignore the damp spot they were resting in. Karkat let out a contented sigh and propped himself a bit up on an elbow so he could kiss the top of Dave's head.

"We can go back to my room and shower," Dave suggested. "We just gotta figure out how to make ourselves presentable enough to walk out in the hall."

He let his eyes fall closed and smiled against Karkat's chest. Karkat was warm and soft and smelled like... well, he smelled like somebody who'd just had a lot of sex. Dave shifted to hook his left leg over Karkat's thighs, unwilling to leave his personal space any time soon.

His ribs felt taut. His gut twisted in a way that was similar to the endorphin rush from getting laid, but with considerably more trepidation. It was tough to remain so intimate with somebody and not say what he was eager to say, but Dave didn't want to put Karkat on the spot. Not while they were covered in all this mess. Besides, it was too early to say he loved him, wasn't it? Wasn't there some kind of rule for this? How many times did they have to fuck before he could feel confident he wasn't exaggerating his own emotional state, or worse, lying to himself about how strongly he felt?

Dave sighed onto Karkat's skin and tightened the hug for a moment. "I'm glad I'm here with you."

It was the best he could go with, for now.

“I'm not going to move for the rest of my fucking life no matter _how_ many showers I need, are you kidding me?” Karkat brought his arms up around Dave's back and hugged him, “Just let me morph into the disgusting crusty jizzmonster I was hatched to be, man, I am entirely too comfortable. Maybe in a few minutes, but unless there's a fucking, like, natural disaster, you are not getting my gross ass off this bed for a good long while.”

That was mostly an exaggeration, but despite his earlier complaints, Karkat did want to spend a little time cuddling before he had to get up and wash the various bodily fluids off himself. It was really nice, having time to just enjoy being close and shit without doing anything.

He glanced over to the side and noticed a patch of... something that wasn't troll come on the mattress, and when he looked down at Dave's hand on a hunch, there was a little bit of it there too. “Oh my god,” he grinned and laughed, “Your come looks like fucking _icing?”_

"Don't be deceived, yo. It does not _taste_ like icing."

A quiet moment passed. Dave then mumbled something unintelligible, something about Dimetapp flavors, and settled in fully against Karkat's side. He _enjoyed_ being held, feeling safe and protected, feeling cherished. On top of that, he was fucking tired.

His breathing levelled out as he drifted off.

Karkat looked fondly down at Dave—or, rather, the top of Dave's head—and smiled. He started purring, trying to keep it quiet so as not to wake Dave, and yawned. Jesus fuck, though, he was exhausted. He was tired for good reason, at least, and anyway it meant he'd be able to fall asleep without too much trouble, and that was always good.

After a few more minutes of sitting and enjoying the closeness, he started to drift off as well, the purring rising and falling in volume in time with his breathing.

Dave woke abruptly, with a motherfuckin' _Inception_ -esque 'kick' feeling, and did in fact kick out his foot as he startled himself back into consciousness. Tragically, Earth had not survived long enough for the film to screen in Dave’s own timeline, although its bullshit had been relatable for those in the alpha session when it came to discussion of dreambubbles. Dave didn’t know this, though. He also had no clue how much time had passed, but some combination of his own internal clock and whatever his aspect granted him made him suspect it'd only been a few minutes since he fell asleep.

Unfortunately, mere seconds after opening his eyes, he also became aware of the cold, slimy goop that was sloshing onto his foot and ankle.

" _FUCK!_ "

He bolted upright and scrambled to get the bucket upright before anything else splashed out. His head was still foggy from nodding off, but any true sluggishness had ended the instant he realized what was going on. "God, it's fucking _everywhere_!"

Karkat jolted awake (unwillingly, sleeping was fucking _nice,_ damn it) to the feeling of something cold and viscous hitting his leg and Dave yelling about something—oh no. Fuck no. He scrambled off the bed as fast as he could without dunking himself in even more genetic material.

“Fuck! We should've put the bucket on the floor, oh my god.” He shook his foot in a halfhearted attempt to get the genetic material off, scowling at the bed like it was to blame. Welp, there was basically no fucking way they'd be able to avoid taking a shower anymore. Fucking... gross, god.

“I really am going to need four showers, holy fucking shit. How'd it even get knocked over?”

"Oh my god, you're just smearing it on the floor!"

Dave, who had managed plenty of various domestic cleanup crises back in his apartment (usually involving fake blood, puppets, and blenders), thought quickly and grabbed a pillow. He pressed it into the wet spot, to soak up as much of the genetic material as he could before it further seeped into the mattress. He used his free hand to steady the bucket.

After he’d begun his recovery efforts, he shot Karkat an incredulous look, and scoffed. “Did you just fucking abandon me to clean up the Krusty Krab by myself?”

Karkat glared at Dave, grabbing the bucket and setting it down on the floor where it wouldn't spill. Or, at least, if it did spill it wouldn't be on his fucking bed. “Fuck you, man, it was a reflexive reaction to getting _liberally coated in come,_ not me trying to abandon you to the flood waters.”

He was kind of smearing it on the floor, though. Ugh. Deciding his foot was a lost cause, he sacrificed another pillow to the mess on the bed and used it to help Dave sop up some of the puddle. “Besides, it's not like I dumped it on you on purpose or anything like that. I didn't actually want my platform to take a trip to the fucking Krusty Krab!”

Since he'd taken swift action, a decent amount of genetic material had transferred into the pillow. Dave flipped it over and used the opposite side to press down even harder against the mattress. This came part and parcel with dating a troll, he guessed. Literally came.

"I don't know if your bed's ever going to un-Krab itself. Not in this spot, anyway."

With the two of them working together, they'd be able to get it cleaned up, but in all likelihood the mattress would be stained permanently and would probably be gross. Was this even a thing that could be laundered? Dave had a feeling that any powerful detergents or machinery necessary were long since destroyed along with their home planets. What could you even use, like... fucking baking soda? Did they have baking soda?

Speaking of his bed being destroyed... “Oh, fuck me. Where am I going to sleep? My couch is a pain in the ass for more than a couple hours and fuck knows I don't need _less_ sleep, so.” Karkat glanced over at Dave's face as an idea came to him. He could just sleep on the couch, but it was stained as all fuck too, and there was a perfectly good platform in Dave’s room, sooo. “You know, this bed is fucking ruined, and it's kind of a waste to just make a new one when we could just, uh. Share one? If you wanted to?”

It felt like his heart had stopped in his chest. Maybe it had. Maybe it was some time power bullshit. Dave stared at Karkat in surprise.

"Um... yeah, dude, you can crash with me." He laughed, and looked back down at the sodden pillows until he could clear his head. "I've been kinda... wishing, actually, that I could fall asleep next to you, and all that."

The meteor was a lonely fucking place, and creepy at all times with no natural light to regulate their sleep schedules. Ever since he and Karkat had hooked up—which felt simultaneously like forever ago and also like no time at all, but was objectively around six days—Dave had felt especially isolated while lying in his bed. Pillows weren't good enough. Neither were puppets, for that matter.

Karkat grinned. “Well, we're probably going to have to fucking burn this piece of shit. Or toss it off the side of the meteor, but I'm not so sure how I feel about the horrorterrors getting their numerous tentacles on it. Eugh.”

He reached for Dave's hand, despite both of their hands being a little sticky from mopping up genetic material, and squeezed it. “I have totally fucking thought about sleeping next to you, dude. It's way easier to actually fall asleep than when I'm alone, or at least it has been the last couple times we've done it.” It could also be that both times they'd fallen asleep together they'd just pailed, but he figured Dave's... well, Daveness was probably at least a contributing factor. 

Dave briefly considered using the mattress to prank their other meteor roommates, to do something ridiculous like somehow insert it into the massive tanks of the ectobiology lab, suspended majestically, as it had already been fated to be coated in goop. Too much work, though.

He squeezed Karkat's hand and smiled back at him. "Okay, well. You already know what you're getting into by agreeing to a long-term Strider slumber party."

He regretted his phrasing as soon as he'd spoken. Was he putting too much pressure on Karkat to commit to something? Did Karkat just want to wait a few days before messing around with alchemiters? Did Karkat even want anything permanent, or even semi-permanent? Was this all temporary?

Rationally, he knew he was making himself sick over it, but knowing that didn't help calm his nerves.

“Gosh, whatever will I do, I'll have to listen to you rap and shit, woe is me.” Karkat had raised his eyebrows a little at the mention of 'long term,' but he hadn't exactly made plans that far ahead yet and it wasn't like he'd _mind_ sleeping next to Dave for longer than a few days, so.

“If I _am_ committing to a long term sleepover in your block, I'll need to bring a couple pairs of pants over after we dispose of this monstrosity. I would bet the last caegars I have left that your pants won't fit over my ass and like fuck am I walking back to my block in my underwear.” He'd suggest Dave bring some of his pants to Karkat's room too, but really, they kind of needed to stop fucking in there and without a bed, it was unlikely any sleepovers would be happening.

"You can find respite in my block with or without pants," Dave offered. "Pants are optional. But whatever shit you wanna bring over, that's cool."

The pillows were ruined. The mattress, though they'd made a valiant effort to save it, was similarly ruined. Maybe he should start putting down a tarp or whatever, if they were going to keep this up. Maybe they should just fuck in the shower.

Dave never wanted to let go of Karkat's hand. Not practical. Not even physically reasonable whatsoever, but he could dream.

"We should probably wash up." He reluctantly got to his feet (which _really_ needed washing, ew) and stood beside Karkat. "This was a lot of fun though, damn. And I know all about F-U-N, fun."

Karkat snorted. “I'm not saying pants are mandatory in your block, I'm saying I will need pants there in the event the ones I'd be wearing are ~mysteriously ruined~ and I want to go to my block for a book or something without resigning myself to the fate of Kanaya seeing me half naked.”

“Shit, I had an absolute fuckload of fun, minus the bucket spilling everywhere.” He glanced towards Dave and nodded, putting his hands on his hips and surveying the war zone. “You're going to have to put a pair of my pants back on to get to the showers, unless you're cool with traipsing the halls mostly nude or crunching the whole way there. Pants are probably mandatory in hallways, at least, even for you.”

Dave lifted his feet one at a time to wipe them on the sheets, since the linens were already done for. He put his socks back on; as gross as they were gonna be, he didn't want to walk barefoot through the hall again. The tile was too fucking cold.

"You wanna know how I define 'fun', Karkat?" Dave asked. He tried to stop himself from smirking but couldn't resist. He pulled Karkat's jeans on, the same pair he'd worn earlier, and shrugged into his god tier top.

Karkat raised an eyebrow suspiciously at Dave's smirk, grabbing a corner of the sheet and wiping off his leg and foot. “I don't know, what's your idea of fun, Dave?” He walked around to his dresser and pulled out a pair of clean pants, leaning on the dresser for balance while he yanked them on. At the rate clothes were getting stained, they'd need to alchemize twice as much laundry detergent, holy fuck.

Okay, yeah. Waterproof surfaces were going to be important. Dave allowed himself a moment to daydream about kneeling in the shower stall and eating out Karkat until the water went cold.

Yes. Good.

Anyway.

"Well. 'F' is for friends who do _stuff_ together." Dave smirked even more widely at him; he just fucking could not stop himself. He grabbed the empty  SPORTS bottle and not-quite-empty bottle of lube off the bed, and stepped closer to Karkat. "'U' is for you and me."

With the most shit-eating grin he could summon, he waggled his eyebrows. "'N' is for anywhere and aaanytime at all, here in the motherfuckin' bowels of the meteor."

He kissed Karkat on the cheek as a finale. "I know the rhyme scheme kinda falls apart at the end, there."

Karkat made a valiant attempt to scowl, completely failed to hide his laughter, and lightly swatted Dave's arm. “I think the rhyme scheme is less of an issue than the fact that you're actually singing a rendition of that shitty fucking song. You've sunk to new lows, man.” He wasn't going to mention their detailed discussion of Spongebob when they were pailing, even though it had set the bar for 'low' to about six feet under.

Leaning forward, he returned the kiss by pecking Dave on the lips. “Come on, you can serenade me in your ablution block. I hear those things get good acoustics, and that way you can flex your vocal skills while making sure we aren't permanently encased in genetic material.”

Dave was fairly sure that their extended conversation about Spongebob was the main thing he was going to take away from this critical life experience.

"I can serenade you, dude. I'll serenade you so good." He led the way to the door and held it open for Karkat as he sang his own parody lyrics. "Now this is a story all about when I hung out and watched Fresh Prince with my friend. And I'd like to take a minute, just sit right there, I'll tell you how all those nookstains got onto that chair."

Weird Al had nothing on him. 

“Holy shit,” Karkat laughed and gave Dave a somewhat incredulous look, “How do you even... goddamn, dude. Your skills are crazy fucking impressive but I gotta say I was not expecting to be serenaded about how I leaked all over the couch.” He walked out into the hallway, turning back around to wait and see if Dave was going to freestyle any more. Despite the sort of embarrassing subject matter, it wasn't like anyone else could hear it, and it was honestly really fucking funny. Not to mention that Dave was actually pretty good at rapping, in Karkat's not-so-humble opinion.

"That couch was the best part. That's where it all started." Dave shut the door behind them, and caught up to Karkat as he continued the new version of the theme.

"In downtown Houston, ecto'd and raised, on the internet's where I spent most of my days..." He slipped his hand into Karkat's and smiled. God. God, he was so fucking _happy_. "Spinnin' and mixin', hash mappin' my shit, takin' selfies and curatin' dead bugs, legit. Then a couple of trolls who were playing a game started sending IMs to my screenname. I got in one SBURB session and when I got there, I wound up gettin' laid in the Incipisphere."

They were in the Veil, weren't they? Right? Something? Where _were_ they? Jade probably knew, wherever she was.

“The couch needs to be, like, burned.” Karkat laced his fingers through Dave's and tugged on his arm a little to encourage him to start walking. “Okay, shit, as much as I'd love to sit and listen to your raps, it is cold as _fuck_ out here and I think I'm going to be permanently stained red if I don't get washed up soon. Rap at me in your block, I will pay you rapt attention once I'm not focusing on how there are bits of genetic material on my thighs that are starting to dry and crust a little.”

"Is it safe to start sick fires in a confined space like this?” Dave didn't know what the exact composition of their artificial atmosphere was, but man, he did not want to test that one out by trial and error. “Can we toss it out an airlock?”

Space littering: the final frontier.

"A fire would warm you up, though, since you didn’t learn last time." Neither of them were learning from their mistakes, it seemed; they still hadn’t realized they needed to fuck in a room with a bathroom, and Karkat had not put a shirt to venture through the hallway. Welp.

Dave was gonna have to work on the remaining lyrics, and couldn't decide if he wanted to tackle the full track or just stick with the section in the show's actual theme. Maybe the Karkat was right, and being in the shower would help inspire him. He was dealing with both human and troll crustiness himself, and with his pajama pants and boxers abandoned in Karkat's room, the jeans were thankfully loose enough on his thighs that they weren't sticking to the denim.

When they finally reached his room, he let go of Karkat's hand and opened the door. It was still messy, but he'd made an attempt since last time to neaten up a bit if he was gonna have people hanging out in here.

People meaning Karkat.

"So, get the cameras rolling, MTV. Welcome back to _Cribs_."

“Well, I mean, you light sick fires fucking daily, you tell me if the air we're breathing combusts upon utterance of your ill beats.” That wasn't Karkat's best comeback, but he figured it was fair to cut himself some slack. He'd probably lost half his panmatter while they were pailing or some shit. It sure fucking felt like it, at least, and it explained why yet again he forgot his goddamn shirt. Jesus christ, he'd need to like, put a sticky note on the door that said something to the effect of 'PUT A SHIRT ON, SHITSPONGE' the next time he and Dave fucked.

The first thing he noticed about Dave's room was that it was clean. Well, _cleaner_ at least; it still made Karkat kind of want to sit down and sort it, but improvement was improvement. He made a beeline for the ablution block, but hesitated before going in. He hadn't considered showering with Dave the last time they'd ended up covered in various bodily fluids, but this time he kind of didn't want to be alone the whole time. Besides, they'd be saving water by showering together. Or something.

“D'you wanna get in with me? It might be kind of nice, plus we can check and make sure there's no, er, stuff on our backs or asses or anything like that. I'm not seeing any downsides, if you want to.”

Dave had already been in a good mood, but getting compliments for his musical talent boosted his emotional state even further. He smiled and laughed it off, but kept glancing at Karkat's face.

Showering together sounded really nice.

"Yeah, man. I alchemized new soap, by the way." He set the water bottle and lube on the floor next to his bed, then took off his clothes, and left them on the floor, too. "So you don't have to worry about inhaling Squirrel Odor this time."

He led Karkat into the bathroom and shut the door behind them. Not that he needed to keep anybody out, exactly, but it'd keep the heat in.

Karkat was stoked Dave was game for showering with him. Hell yes. This was going to be _awesome._

“As long as I don't have to smell like fucking sickle scent, I will be absolutely thrilled with whatever you've managed to make.” The fucking meteor came with ready-made ablutionblocks but not one single bar of soap, what the fuck was even up with that.

He shuffled out of his pants once he was inside the ablutionblock, folding them up neatly and placing them on the back of the load gaper. He didn't want them to get wet with stray water from the shower by just putting them on the floor, after all. Enough pairs of his pants had been ruined for a good long while, and the less laundry he had to do, the better.

Brr, ablutionblocks were chilly as all hell without any hot water running. Karkat shivered a little, sliding the shower door open and gesturing for Dave to get in.

"It's pumpkin spice, actually? Smells like fuckin' muffins. Way better than Monster Piss 'Apple' at any rate."

Dave glanced to the towel rack, which had exactly one towel. "Shitting fuck, hold on." He hurried back into his bedroom to get a second towel, and then figured he may as well grab a new one for himself anyway, and brought two back with him, and a washcloth for good measure. They had made a mess.

He closed the bathroom door, let the old towel fall to the floor, and shoved both new ones into the towel rack. Dave then stepped into the shower stall with the washcloth in tow, and slid the door into place. After all that, he hung the washcloth on the door handle. Phew. "Okay, where were we?"

Karkat, once he got into the shower, found the bottle of pumpkin spice shampoo while Dave was getting towels and squinted at it suspiciously. The name didn't sound unappealing, at least, and it was probably a damn sight better than smelling like a sickle. Will Smith was great, but the shampoo definitely didn’t live up to the actor.

When Dave got into the shower, Karkat looked up and held the bottle so Dave could see it. “How the fuck did you manage to alchemize this?” He asked, popping the cap on the bottle and giving it a curious sniff. Well, damn, it _did_ smell like muffins. And not in the gross, sickly sweet way he'd suspected it might.

“Also give me the code for it, holy shit. It smells way better than any of the shit I've alchemized. My days of stinking vaguely of metal are over.”

"I combined the bar soap with a pumpkin, and it spat that out." Dave shrugged, and smiled. He was never going to stop smiling, jesus fuck. "I can make a bunch more for us to share, if you want."

Dave stepped in front of Karkat and turned on the water. "Stand back!" he warned, melodramatic. "It's gonna be cold at first. You can use me as a shield, though. I'll protect you."

The water was cold, but only for a few seconds; once it'd been brought to temperature, the water was an absolute godsend. The shower head was mounted to the ceiling and, therefore, poured straight down. It felt like washing up in rain, if rain was perfectly hot and also indoors. Dave stood beneath the stream and sighed, content as fuck, as the water wet his hair until his bangs were dripping in front of his eyes.

“You combined it with a pumpkin?” Karkat raised his eyebrows, setting the bottle down on a shelf, “...What pumpkin?”

Although he rolled his eyes at Dave's shielding comment, Karkat did position himself behind Dave so the spray wouldn't touch him until it warmed up. After, he stuck his hand under the water for a few seconds to see if it was warm, then decided 'fuck it' and cupped his hands to catch some of the spray. It was probably weird to drink shower water, and it didn't taste that great since it wasn't cold, but holy shit was he thirsty. He hadn't actually thought too much about being thirsty until Dave had turned on the water, and then suddenly his throat was dry as all fuck.

A couple of mouthfuls later, Karkat got properly under the spray, bringing him nearly nose-to-nose with Dave. That in itself was pretty nice, but the way the showerhead was attached to the ceiling was a fuck of a lot better than the tiny, wall mounted showerheads in the public ablution chambers.

“Dude, this is great. I wonder if all the other blocks have showers like this and I just managed to pick the one fucking block without one.” That would make the public bathroom kind of redundant, so maybe not. But then again, a lot of the meteor didn't make any fucking sense.

Dave paused for a long, uncomfortable moment. "Now that you mention it, I can't fucking remember."

He felt the way he did when he walked into a room and couldn't think of what the fuck he'd gone in there for. He wasn't getting any older, thanks to being a goddamn deity, but man. Maybe that shit affected his memory somehow. Maybe it was all the dead Daves. Bleh.

Dave took the pumpkin spice shampoo (which was an all-in-one sort of deal) off the shelf where Karkat had set it down, and poured some into his palm to work through his hair. It wasn't his first choice in scent, mostly because it made him fucking hungry, but it was the best option they had available and was probably the best anybody on the meteor had managed to create. He ought to see if anyone else wanted a bottle.

"Strider showers are legendary, so I picked this bedroom based on its bathroom."

Well, the pumpkin thing was going to be a mystery for the ages, apparently.

Karkat glanced up to Dave's soapy hair and back down to the bottle. It was probably dumb to ask if Dave would wash his hair too, especially since there wasn't much Karkat could do to return the favor. Not to mention it was sappy as all fuck, but he could maybe ask carefully enough it'd sound like a joke if Dave thought washing each other's hair was stupid.

“Hey, you know what might be fun?” Karkat poked Dave's arm and smiled, waggling his eyebrows a little, “You should totally wash my hair, dude. Make it happen or whatever.”

"You think so?" Dave rinsed his own hair off and wiped it back out of his face. "You sure my fingers won't get caught in the Gordian motherfuckin' knot on top of your head?"

It was an endearing request. Dave had never been able to... for lack of a better word, _fuss_ over anyone until pretty much now. He'd certainly never been in a shower with Terezi. He poured out some more shampoo and set the bottle down, then worked it into a lather on his fingers before stepping behind Karkat and getting the suds into his hair. As long as he was careful, he wouldn't pull on it too much. He scrunched at Karkat's hair until it was thoroughly soaped up, then smoothed it back down.

"This okay?"

Karkat made a face. Blarg, he should've warned Dave about his horns. It wasn't _awful,_ Dave was trying to be gentle, but it was kind of… not great. Ick.

“Be careful, watch my horns, okay?” He winced a little bit. “Like, uh, try and go lightly, to not tug too hard. I know my head is a fucking nest at this point and I wouldn't be surprised if I had genetic material in there too, but you have to work at it to get the damn knots out without making my horns feel weird.”

Dave wondered if somewhere, somewhen, back in Alternian history and evolutionary development, trolls had socialized in groups by picking parasites out of each other's hair like humans had. Maybe trolls, being bug-descendants, had picked primates out of each other's hair. It was a thought.

It wasn't a particularly insightful or accurate thought, but showers existed for this exact sort of idle speculation.

He made his touches even more gentle, reduced the pressure, cautiously teased out a few spots where Karkat's hair had matted. This was going to be time consuming if he tried to address all of the tangles; instead, he alternated efforts on either side of Karkat's head to lightly massage his scalp.

"Is this better?" Dave asked.

Karkat shook his head, “That's worse, actually. Move your hands at the same time. Otherwise it feels like, um, it kind of makes me feel sick.” He was kind of wishing he'd shown by example now, whoops. It wasn't like Dave was doing it on purpose or anything, and Karkat didn't want to make him feel shitty, but that didn't make the alternating movements any less nauseating.

He held up his hands and moved them in small circles at the same time, to show Dave what kind of movements generally worked. “It's different when it's me doing it, I guess? I've been minding my horns for a fuck of a long time now, so I'm probably used to it.” Maybe it was because he could anticipate what he was doing, whereas when it was Dave he couldn't tell what was going on until Dave had actually put his hands in Karkat's hair.

Dave looked at Karkat's hands, and smirked. "So basically pretend your horns are a turntable? I got this. I got a deft touch."

Before doing anything else, Dave urged Karkat to turn around and tilt his head back so the shampoo could rinse clear without getting into his eyes. That'd be the last thing they needed. When the suds were gone, he tilted Karkat's head back to its original position, and had him to step backward so water wasn’t getting into his face. There was plenty enough steam to keep them warm, anyway.

With his hands poised at the base of Karkat's horns, he gently rubbed at his scalp in coordinated semi-circles at the horns' outer edges. Hopefully this worked.

Karkat let out a pleased sigh and relaxed into Dave's touch, closing his eyes. This was nice. It wasn't normally _quite_ as nice when he was washing his own hair, or else he'd never get out of the fucking ablution trap. It was probably because of the same reason why it was worse when Dave had been doing the weird… alternating massage thing. Couldn't anticipate what was happening and all that shit.

“Are you telling me you're playing music on my horns?” He raised his eyebrows, although Dave couldn't see it, and snorted. “Don't scratch them, whatever you do, dude.”

"It's only the music that's in my fuckin' bloodpusher or whatever." Dave spent another full minute petting Karkat's hair just shy of touching his horns. Karkat's posture had visibly relaxed. Good. That's what this shit was for.

Dave trailed his hands down to press his thumbs on the back of Karkat's neck, following the curve of his spine. He swept his touches downward and settled into a slow routine of digging his thumbs into the muscles of Karkat's shoulders, then soothing away the pressure by running his fingertips softly over the same skin.

Before he could stop himself, Dave leaned in to press a kiss to Karkat's neck. He then wondered why the fuck he even considered stopping himself at all, and slid his arms around Karkat's waist from behind so he could rest his chin on Karkat's shoulder. He huffed out a deep, sleepy sigh.

The massage was fucking awesome, but cuddles were a hell of a lot better in Karkat's opinion. He smiled and leaned back against Dave, letting out a quiet chirp and reaching up to gently pap Dave's cheek. It was kind of nice to not do things that were concupiscent all the time, even if they were in a concupiscent, er. Not-quadrant.

Actually, now that he thought about it, this was really pale. It could've been some flush snuggling or something, were it not for the horn touching and how Karkat had just papped Dave's face, but it wasn't like he suddenly wanted to build a pile and never get flush again with Dave, so. Ugh. Karkat let out a short breath and dropped his hand from Dave's cheek. It would probably be better to just… think about quadrants some other time, when he wasn't practically falling asleep standing. This was too nice to ruin anyway. It could wait. Some other things could probably stand to be talked about, however.

“Mm, hey, Dave?” Karkat turned his head to try and look at Dave without moving away from him, which didn't work all that well. “You're okay, yeah? Like, it's okay I didn't stop when you were, uh.”

He didn't want to outright say 'crying'—he knew Dave had issues with feeling like emotions were okay, and embarrassing him was the last thing Karkat wanted. “When you were upset? I didn't need to stop or anything?”

Dave's eyes flew open and tension flooded him for a split second, before he reminded himself that this was _Karkat_ , and Karkat was not trying to give him shit with this line of questioning.

"You're okay," he assured him. "I, uh. I guess I was kinda... it dredged up some fuckin' self-loathing at a really weird moment." He reached for Karkat's hand and brought it back up to his cheek. "You were perfect. Really fuckin' kind to me, dude. I couldn't've asked you for more than exactly what you did."

Dave turned his head to kiss Karkat's palm, and closed his eyes again as he listened to the running water. It occurred to him, suddenly, that he'd spent all this time _not_ noticing Karkat's body temperature, where Terezi's and even Kanaya's were both cooler to the touch than seemed normal. Karkat's was not divergent from Dave's own. Hm.

"What about you? I still feel fuckin' guilty as shit for hurting you."

“Okay, good. I didn't want to fucking… fuck that up. It was great for me and I'm really glad you had a good time too, like. Damn. I would be fucking beside myself if you weren't okay.” Karkat knew his way around self-loathing, that much was sure. “So long as you're alright and I didn't gleefully stomp all over your boundaries and shit. I was kind of worried I just thought it was cool because I was thinking with my junk and not my pan.”

Karkat shrugged, reaching up to run his fingers through Dave's wet hair. “I'm fine now. And it wasn't like you did it on purpose, fuck, it wasn't even your fault. Like I said earlier, I pretty much fucking asked you to pound my nook and attempted the same thing myself when I was on top. It was a learning experience. Now we know not to let my, uh, enthusiasm get in the way of being safe. Next time I won't go so hard and all will be well.”

Dave leaned into Karkat's hand and smiled, content. "I never _said_ I had a good time," he pointed out. He tightened his one-armed hug around Karkat's waist and used his other hand to hold Karkat's wrist in place, to support his arm while the hair-petting continued. "But for the record, yeah. It was fuckin' great for me."

With all the reluctance in paradox space, Dave pulled away from Karkat. "As much as I want to think about pounding your nook, we should, y'know. Scrub off that Krusted Krab." He handed Karkat the washcloth as a show of good faith; Karkat probably needed it more than he did, but maybe only by a slight margin.

Karkat's breath caught in his throat and he tensed, heart beating rapidly, until Dave continued. “You _said_ you had a good time when we were, like, hugging and shit before the bucket spilled and killed thousands with the flood left in its unholy wake. I will have a fucking stroke and die the next time you do that, mother fuck.” He would probably have a stroke and die the next time he inadvertently put words in Dave's mouth, too.

He took the washcloth gratefully, glancing down at the mess the bucket flood had left on the both of them and grimacing. Okay, fine, the mess he had made mostly by himself on both his and Dave's crotches. The mess on their legs was from the bucket, yeah, but the rest was all Karkat. How the fuck did adult trolls on Alternia actually pail without being permanently caked in come? There was twice as much mess that way, and none of Karkat's books ever mentioned the gross parts of sex. It was a mystery for the goddamn ages.

“The poor washcloth doesn't deserve this impending doom,” he remarked, picking up the pumpkin soap again and pouring a liberal amount on the washcloth before bending down to scrub at his thighs. The pumpkin shit smelled good, okay, and it would work just fine for scrubbing off crusty genetic material.

"Yeah, in hindsight, that wasn't the best time to get snarky about it, huh." Dave ran his fingertips up and down Karkat's back, which quickly became awkward as Karkat leaned away and got out of reach. He decided to get soap for himself, too, and use his hands to scrub his skin.

"Gonna make this real clear, then: I, Dave Strider, had the time of my fuckin' life fucking and getting fucked by you, Karkat Vantas." He held his cupped hands out to dump water onto his own body, since Karkat was occupying most of the spray. "Even though we made a mess. Even though it got kinda weird a few times."

Dave ducked his head under the stream to lean over and plant a kiss somewhere on Karkat's shoulder blade. It was not a smooth move, really, but. "And I'm really fuckin' glad I'm with you right now."

Karkat looked up momentarily from scrubbing his foot to smile at Dave. “Your snark knows no bounds. I did have a lot of fun, though. It was amazing, even the weird shit. Except for the fucking endless Spongebob references, that was terrible and so are we. Showering with you is really nice, even if we did have to be covered in nasty shit to get in here.” The shoulder kiss, albeit awkwardly positioned, was pleasant. He straightened back up to kiss Dave's cheek, even though Karkat was getting water in his eyes, and passed Dave the washcloth.

“I've got about all I can see off of me, so hopefully there's no glaring patches I missed. Your turn, crusty.” Not that Karkat hadn't been equally or more crusty just a few minutes prior, but hey. He was clean now.

"Crusty was my nickname on LOHAC," Dave lied.

He took the washcloth from Karkat and wrung it out beneath the water—not that it hadn't already been clean-ish when Karkat handed it to him, but it seemed like a good idea, anyway. He braced one hand against the wall as he scrubbed at his feet, one at a time.

"Dude, I should've grabbed two washcloths. I'm fond of you and all but I'm not rubbing your foot-crud onto my dick." He glanced over his shoulder. "Hashtag kinkshaming."

The washcloth honestly seemed unnecessary at this point, since Dave had been washing up while Karkat fiddled with it the first time. He let it drop to the floor of the shower stall and stood beneath the water for a few more seconds. Before turning off the water, he glanced to Karkat. "You done?"

Common courtesy.

“Yeah, and my nickname was Captain Charisma,” Karkat snorted. “It's pretty reasonable not to want to wash your dick with a foot cloth. Fuck knows I wouldn't wash my sheath with that now. You can just rub my foot crud on your foot crud. Shit, let's be sanitary.”

He double checked himself for any stray genetic material stains and looked back up at Dave. “I'm good, yeah. Let's fucking lie down, I'm exhausted.” Opening the sliding door, he stuck his arm out of the shower and fumbled around for one of the towels. “I could sleep for the next goddamn sweep.”

"I'm here to tell you that's a real option, because that's how much time we gotta burn."

Dave waited for Karkat to grab himself a towel, then decided to brave the colder air and step out of the shower to dry himself off. Showering with two people was a little complicated.

"That could be us, dude," he said, his voice muffled through the towel as he dried off his hair. "Cuddle-makeouts in bed for the next two years."

“That sounds great,” Karkat finished toweling off and wrapped the towel around his head, using it to dry his hair. He stepped out of the shower and picked up his pants, unfolding them and pulling them on. Next time, he'd need to remember underwear. Going commando was fucking _weird._

“I'm not sure how you plan to keep us from starving, though. Or keep me from starving, I guess, since you've got the god tier shit going on and I don't even know if you need to eat. You better have a shitload of junk food captchalogued.”

"Sure do, my man. I'll cover you in Doritos and eat them off you." He gave Karkat a 'sexy' look that was not even close to being attractive. "And lick the cheese dust from your body."

Dave wrapped the towel around his waist and took a minute to brush his teeth. Rose had managed to alchemize electric toothbrushes for the entire meteor group. He wondered if it'd been motivated exclusively by a desire for dental hygiene, or what, but he wasn't about to ask. Terezi had handled the creation of their toothpaste stock, and was proud of how M1NTY FR3SH it all was. (She’d taken to eating it, along with the chalk. Dave didn’t ask her about that, either.)

It was a team effort, except when it came to cleaning the goddamn communal bathroom, apparently.

Karkat grimaced theatrically. “I think I'd rather starve, bro. Hashtag kinkshaming and shit, but keep those fucking Doritos away from any part of my body that isn't my mouth.”

He glanced over to the sink and decided he'd wait until later to brush his teeth. As much as he liked kissing Dave, sharing the same toothbrush seemed kind of unsanitary to Karkat, despite some of the vague similarities. He'd just have to live with the evening breath when he next woke up for a while until he could brush his teeth.

Dave spat out toothpaste. "Psh, fine. I'll rub Dorito crumbs sensually all over myself, alone."

He finished up, then glanced back to Karkat. Oh, yeah. 

"Uh, so, I don't have a spare toothbrush, exactly?" He pulled open a drawer and took out a replacement brush head—which had somehow alchemized within its packaging—and held it out to Karkat. "But I can offer you half of a toothbrush. Like, the important part."

“Take another shower before you come anywhere near me, then. I don't want to smell Cheesy Dave, and I don't think it's exactly hygienic, besides.” Karkat took the toothbrush head and inspected the packaging for any weaknesses. Hmmm. He tried using his claws to tear a hole in the plastic, but while his claws were sharp, they were built for tearing relatively soft skin, not plastic.

Biting it open was the only option. Karkat resigned himself to this fate and bit the plastic, tugging until the top ripped off. It was a jagged tear and he kind of hurt his mouth yanking it off, but the fucking fang scrubber could be freed now. He used his claws to pry the rest of the casing off and held up the toothbrush head. It wasn't exactly going to be easy to brush his teeth with, but Karkat figured it was better than evening breath.

“Well, okay, I guess it's time for you to watch me get toothpaste all down my hand, dude. Be prepared for a fucking _show._ You know it's gonna be good when I'm using snooty highblood words.”

"Oh, I am so ready for this." Dave took the towel off his hips and hung it back up on the rack. "I can make that a Spongebob thing, too. Chant to you about how _I'm ready_ to witness your toothpaste misadventures."

The amount of steam that'd built up was starting to annoy him. Dave opened the bathroom door to let it vent out.

Karkat raised his eyebrows. “If you do that, I'll laugh, and get toothpaste and spittle all over your face and the ablutionblock. You don't want that. Just laugh silently while I make a mess over myself in a strikingly accurate portrayal of a grub.”

He put some toothpaste on the fang scrubber, holding it at an awkward angle to try and avoid getting toothpaste on his hand. It worked, mostly, but it made it a little more difficult to get the toothbrush where he wanted. Basically, Karkat had dribbles of toothpaste running down the corners of his mouth in short order.

“Bluh,” he said thickly around a mouthful of toothpaste, leaning down to rinse his mouth out and to wash off the toothpaste that had run down his chin. “Never again. I'm alchemizing a spare fang scrubber immediately and putting it in here. That was gross.”

"Yeah, but now you're ready for a sweep's worth of kissing me." Dave stood in front of him, put his arms over Karkat’s shoulders, and smiled. "Or this next while, at least. You might need Rose to help make another toothbrush, just F.Y.I."

Karkat shrugged and laughed, “Well, we'll see if you're complaining after a sweep of no dental hygiene, then.”

He thought about putting the toothbrush head back in the drawer, but it had been used and the drawer probably wasn't exactly sanitary, so he settled for putting it on the sink next to Dave's fang scrubber. “I'm just going to captchalogue mine, get the code, and alchemize another one. I don't see how I can fuck that up—it's not like i'm trying to make it from scratch or anything.”

"I have full faith in your ability to copy-paste shit."

Dave raised his hands to slide his fingers underneath the towel and into Karkat's damp hair. "Stop worrying about future alchemizing shenanigans and pay attention to my shiny teeth and me. Mostly me, but my teeth so totally twinkle like the motherfuckin' stars in space."

It was a good day for Nicktoons, it seemed.

“We're back at licking each other's enamel, then? Sexy.”

Karkat smiled and leaned forward to kiss Dave (his lips, not his shiny teeth), resting his hands on the small of Dave's back. It was a very… minty kiss, which Karkat probably should have expected, but he definitely didn't mind it. He kept his movements slow and soft, more enjoying the closeness than trying to gear up into pailing again, and trailed one hand up to play with Dave's hair.

Dave closed his eyes and leaned into the kiss. He toyed with the ends of Karkat's hair, where his fingers had pulled it into messy sections; the more he fiddled with it, the more the towel was coming undone. Oops.

He pulled away, both giddy and sleepy, which was kind of an unfortunate combination, or like something at a middle school sleepover. Appropriate, given that Karkat was going to stay over this time.

"You have a good face." He kissed the corner of Karkat's mouth, then pulled back to make eye contact again. "I like looking at you. You are attractive."

“I like looking at you, too.” Karkat said, slightly flustered. He didn't want to just fucking parrot everything Dave said, though, even if Dave was attractive. It was pretty lame to just echo shit, and not romantic at all.

“You're really fucking... Hm. Your looks are stunning, I would totally gaze tenderly upon you again.” He couldn't think of an appropriate descriptor before; 'hot' seemed too shallow, 'gorgeous' was too over the top even though it was true, and 'attractive' was just repeating Dave. Leaning forward with plans to rest his face in the crook of Dave's neck, Karkat tilted his head down a bit too fast and the already-loose towel slipped right off his head and onto Dave's face.

“Shit, oops.” It definitely wasn't as bad as the bucket catastrophe, but it succeeded in embarrassing Karkat and killing the mood a little. “Sorry, I didn't think that the towel was that loose.”

Dave laughed. He propped the towel up and draped it back over Karkat's head so that they were looking at each other beneath it, like a really tiny, spectacularly shitty fort.

"Am I hotter under a towel?" he asked. "Would you fuck me in a box? Would you fuck me wearing socks?"

This was incredibly stupid.

He leaned back in to kiss the tip of Karkat's nose—fuckin' _gaaaay_ , jesus—and grinned at him. "It's kinda dank under here. Not quite to the point of Subway Stank, but we should... y'know, go lie down."

Karkat smiled and stuck his tongue out at Dave just a little bit. “I already said I wouldn't fuck you with socks on last time, and a box just seems hells of impractical. I don't think it would be very comfortable, dude. Cardboard in your ass and shit.”

He pulled the towel off their heads and yawned. “Yeah, okay, I need to sleep. I would nap with you wearing socks, you know. I am game for all sorts of sock-wearing sleep related activities, as long as we're not going to absorb the subway stank of the towel fort any longer. Lead the way.”

"Didn't you learn anything from Troll Solid Stranglebeast?" He wondered if that term only applied to constrictors. "Boxes are a safe place to be."

Dave took Karkat’s hand as he walked back to his bed and sat on the edge of it. “We got a sweep to get our cuddle on, so you tell me how you want to get this snuggling show on the road.”

Karkat snorted at the snake comment and rolled his eyes, moving to sit on the bed next to Dave. “I don't fucking care, dude, I'm just glad we're not snuggling in a box, no matter how safe they may or may not be.”

He rubbed the back of his hand against his eyes. “Since you were the big eating ladle earlier, we could switch it up this time? I can't sleep like that forever but it'd be nice to fall asleep like that. Holding you and shit, even if I end up inhaling your hair or something. If that appeals to you.”

Eating ladle. Amazing.

"Inhaling my hair is probably not good for your lungs, or whatever you'd call them. Air sacs? Oxygen processors?" Dave flopped onto his back on the bed, on top of the covers. He’d actually made the bed, in case Karkat showed up. It was the small things, right? "But yeah, you should spoon the fuck out of me."

He let his head rest on the pillows and watched Karkat—not that a lot was going on, really, but just seeing his face sent a rush of fondness through him. God, he had it bad. "Come here, man."

"Fuck you, man, I don't need to bother with highblood talk." Karkat offhandedly flipped Dave off and shuffled around so he was lying next to him. "All right, I'm ready for a fucking sweep-long cuddlefest. Let's do this shit, make like silverware and spoon."

He felt kind of giddy, actually, even though he was exhausted as shit. It was just now dawning on him that he'd get to sleep like this, next to Dave, _every night._ God damn, it almost didn't feel real.

Dave glanced to his right and smiled up at Karkat. He reached over with his left hand to cup Karkat's cheek.

"I got so much I want to say to you, but I dunno how to word it." He shifted to get a little closer, and tilted his head back. His gaze was fixed on Karkat's mouth, and Dave let out a sleepy sigh before speaking again. "I think half of my ideas are still Spongebob jokes."

Karkat laughed quietly and let his eyes fall shut. “I will probably just fucking... explode if we make any more Spongebob jokes. I can only handle so much of that show at a time, and the more I think about Squidward the more nightmares I'm going to have.”

Eyes still closed, he reached for the general vicinity of Dave's face and papped what he could reach. That meant Karkat ended up papping Dave's nose, but close enough. “Hmmm. You can incoherently babble everything you want to say to me until I fall asleep, and then you can tell me it properly in the morning once we're both more coherent.”

Dave spent a moment trying to decide whether to face Karkat or go for The Full Spoon. If he went for spooning, he could think about what he was about to say for a while longer. He rolled onto his side and scooted back against Karkat. Karkat's sweatpants were cozy. This was cozy.

"Yeah, but that's not how sleepovers work, dude. At least, that's not how human sleepovers work. I dunno the rules for troll pajama parties."

“There's—there's nothing keeping me here, though? The sun isn't going to come up and make me stay so, fuck. What are human sleepovers even like?” Karkat wrapped his arm around Dave's chest and yawned.

After a brief, quiet moment, he realized that they were on top of the blankets. Karkat was shirtless, Dave was naked, and they were on top of the blankets. That was going to make for one hell of a shivery spooning session. “You know what we should do, just in case you or my torso gets cold,” he leaned forward to whisper in Dave's ear, for ~dramatic effect.~ Or, uh, something. Karkat felt like whispering suited the mood, anyway. “We should get under the snuggleplanes.”

Karkat's breath in his ear made Dave laugh and squirm away. "Okay, sure."

He sat up and shifted on the bed to push down the covers and get under them. The cuddling had been far too short-lived, but man, the blankets were a hell of a lot warmer. This was good.

He settled down beneath the covers and got comfortable. "At a human sleepover you can't wait until the morning to tell your secrets and shit. You have to say everything at like, 4AM, when the mood's right."

Karkat got situated under the covers and scooted closer to Dave. The cuddle session wasn't over yet, fuck no. He draped his arm across Dave's chest, letting out a long, content sigh. Now he was warm _and_ enjoying some snuggling. Fuck yeah.

“Well, I'm not gonna fucking... stay awake much longer, dude, so you'll be saying your secrets to the beat of my snores.” Pressing a kiss to the back of Dave's neck, Karkat continued, “I'll be sure to have really vivid dreams detailing every secret you tell me while I'm conked the fuck out. You can quiz me when I wake up.”

"Oh, man. If you snore, that might be a dealbreaker." 

Dave reached for Karkat's hand and pressed it close to his chest. There was nothing like it, really; skin on skin (or skin on pajamas) cuddling was a capital-T Thing he was not fucking willing to part with now that he'd experienced it. He'd be lying if he didn't say he was looking forward to falling asleep every night like this.

Being held allowed him to completely relax in a way he couldn't in any other situation. The only thing that came close was when he got into the right kind of creative groove and churned out a lot of new artwork or music tracks, but even so, that was an active peace as opposed to a passive one like resting in bed with somebody who cared about him.

That was the one part he couldn't calm down about.

"Karkat?" He brought Karkat's hand upward and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. "Do you, uh..." Fuck. 

Karkat did not actually snore, as far as he was aware. Maybe he did though; he wasn't exactly awake to listen to how he sounded.

He squeezed Dave's hand and closed his eyes, starting to drift off to sleep. He was warm and comfortable, and more relaxed than he'd felt in, shit. A fuck of a long time. When Dave spoke, Karkat opened his eyes and made a sleepy, questioning noise. “Do I what? I don't actually snore, I don't think, if that really is a dealbreaker or whatever. We'll have to wait until I'm asleep and see, I guess.”

Ugh, Karkat was fucking exhausted, but after a moment he woke up enough to figure out that was probably not what Dave was asking—he wouldn't have been so hesitant if it was. “Uh, shit, seriously though. What is it?”

Dave's pulse raced. He'd tried to broach the topic several times and kept stopping himself. Maybe this wasn't the fucking time, _again_. Discussing the specific nature of their relationship and their feelings towards each other really needed to wait until they were both completely awake.

Instead, Dave rolled over in Karkat's embrace and kept his head on the pillows. He wedged his leg between Karkat's, so their knees weren't clunking together, and curled his arm around Karkat's waist to pet at the small of his back.

He met his gaze, just as sleepy as Karkat was, if maybe a bit more nervous. Dave glanced down to Karkat's mouth, then back up to his eyes. "Do you wanna make out a little?"

“Yeah, of course,” Karkat smiled muzzily and reached up to comb his fingers through Dave's hair. He was about to lean in to kiss Dave, when he realized that they hadn't actually made out while they weren't pailing. Damn.

Blushing, he glanced away. It wasn't that he didn't _want_ to make out with Dave, making out was awesome, but... He was a little worried that it was just how horny they'd both been the last few times they'd properly made out compensating for Karkat sucking at kissing rather than actual skill. What if it was disappointing for Dave? Fuck!

Dave could definitely stand to have Karkat pet his hair way more often. Every single fucking time it reminded him of how they'd hooked up, and hell if that didn't give him a fuckload of dokis. For all he couldn't spit out the right words, he had an overwhelming need to kiss Karkat, and continue kissing him until he got the message across.

He ran his hand up to rest on Karkat's shoulder blade, and moved his face closer.

"Hey," he said, softly. "Look at me."

Karkat looked back towards Dave and raised his eyebrows. “Yeah, Dave?” Okay, so going in for the kiss right now would be a dick move and seem like he was trying to shut Dave up. So even if he was feeling more confident in his kissing skills, Karkat figured he wouldn't try to initiate the makeouts right away. Dave probably had something to say.

Dave held eye contact and smiled gently. "You mean so much to me." He scratched his fingertips on Karkat's back and blinked a few times; he hovered close to Karkat while speaking, his breath hot but thankfully fresh. "And I'm real happy you're beside me."

His heart was thudding delirious biznasty hard. Dave licked his lips, his eyes half closed. He shifted to run the ball of his foot along Karkat's calf, a bit awkwardly, but still soft on the sweatpants.

If this had doomed the timeline, he was okay with that, but he'd come to recognize the tell-tale signs of it, and he didn't have that looming sense of dread that typically accompanied it. There was hope.

Dave was being cute as fuck, goddamn. By this point, Karkat was blushing all the way up to the points of his ears and grinning hugely. He cupped Dave's cheek in his hand and leaned forward to kiss him, softly. Really, there was no other way to follow up something that sweet _except_ by kissing him.

Kissing Dave was always nice, but like this, when he wasn't focusing on trying to get off, Karkat could really appreciate just taking his time and trading kisses back and forth for a while.

He kept his movements slow, and, still being sleepy, occasionally missed and ended up more kissing the side of Dave's mouth. Oh well. It was still nice.

Without the urgency of sex, Dave noticed little details more than usual: how Karkat's breath went up Dave's nose if he tilted his head just the wrong way, how his own lips never seemed to stay the right amount of dry or wet, how slight changes in pressure could make or break what was pleasant. That said, there was nowhere else he wanted to be, and nothing he'd change. They were clean and warm and safe and he didn't ever want to get up.

He was too tired to be aroused, but like hell if he couldn't still enjoy being close to his alien boyfriend. Dave pressed his cheek back into Karkat's palm and made a quiet, sleepy sound against Karkat's mouth, his hand rubbing small circles on Karkat’s shoulder.

Karkat was enjoying the kissing, definitely, but when he felt himself start purring, he pulled back. Purring tended to make him breathe heavier and faster, and exhaling directly up Dave's nose was just plain fucking rude. Besides, he liked hugging, too.

He leaned forward again and pressed his cheek against Dave's, moving his hand from where he'd been cupping Dave's face to hold the back of his head. Closing his eyes, Karkat tilted his head just a bit so he wasn't breathing directly into Dave's ear either and got comfortable. This was nice. They probably wouldn't stay like this the entire time they were sleeping (Karkat knew he tended to move around some, at least) but for now, it was pretty damn great.

Dave could feel the contented rumbling in Karkat's chest and throat, and nuzzled his cheek against Karkat's. He hugged him close and sighed. This was everything.

All he wanted to do was tell him he loved him, but the fear of rejection was too intimidating. 

When he spoke, it was low and drowsy. "Dude." He turned his head slightly to kiss Karkat's jaw, beneath his ear, halfway into his still messy but now somewhat detangled hair. "Just hold me."

“'M holding you,” Karkat said quietly, though he did move his hand from the back of Dave's head to his back, rubbing up and down.

He stayed like that, breathing deeply (or as deeply as he could while making cricket noises), and holding Dave until he started to fall asleep. “Fuck, man, I gotta roll over. I can't sleep like this.” Whichever shit deity decided to make it so that people couldn't cuddle comfortably while sleeping was an asshole. Karkat was getting a neck cramp.

Dave reluctantly disengaged himself from Karkat's hug, and settled down against the bed, lying on his stomach, his arms underneath the pillows, with his head turned towards Karkat. He looked at him fondly, eyelids heavy.

"Night, dude."

Just knowing that he was nearby was a comfort that could not be overstated.

“Good morning,” Karkat responded, smiling and laughing a little. He didn't actually know _what_ the fuck time it was, but hey. He could use whatever phrases he liked.

Rolling over to get comfortable, he yawned and curled up a bit. Karkat couldn't see Dave like that, yeah, but he could feel a warm solid weight against his back and that in itself was fucking awesome. And, fortunately, sleeping separately-but-close was more sustainable than trying to snuggle in their sleep. He could stay like this.

A few minutes later, Karkat was asleep, his purring gradually fading out into slow, deeper breaths.

Dave's breathing evened out. He thought idly about Carlton dancing, about his comic, about how nice Karkat smelled, and about stupid cartoon quotes.

In his dreams he was the star, and Karkat was some other related astronomical object, or maybe a basketball. He was cozy, and it was all good.


End file.
